


Cardinal Rule

by SakuraMinamino



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anchors, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Assassination, Attempted Murder, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Hope, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Paranoia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Survival, Survivor Guilt, Tarsus IV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 05:22:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 120,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2495981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SakuraMinamino/pseuds/SakuraMinamino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Enterprise is sent on a mission, one that is strikingly similar to Tarsus IV. Trapped on the warring planet, Kirk must struggle through his demons to keep Spock and his landing team safe.</p><p>Meanwhile, Spock has recently found he has feelings for his captain and is determined to stay away. Can he when he sees Jim falling into the memories of his horrid past?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Calm Before the Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [[授权翻译][ST][SK]Cardinal Rule 基本规则](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7424092) by [SiefCandiceAdams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiefCandiceAdams/pseuds/SiefCandiceAdams)
  * Translation into Español available: [Cardinal Rule](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10220186) by [Serenity_Usagi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serenity_Usagi/pseuds/Serenity_Usagi)



Admiral Komack threw back another glass of whisky, relishing the burn of the amber liquid as it went down. A weary sigh escaped the middle aged man as his shaking hand reached for the crystal bottle to pour himself another shot. With a newly refilled glass, he leaned back into his overly plush desk chair and glanced at the PADD lying a foot away from him on his desk. Just seeing the offending piece of technology made a scowl cross his features. Still, he had to respond to the message.

"Lights at 30 percent." Light filled the previously dark room so that he could read without straining his eyes. Running his hand through his graying hair, he picked up the PADD quickly rereading the invitation. Another commendation ceremony being planned for that punk everyone kept calling "the Golden Boy of Starfleet."

He couldn't for the life of him understand why everyone was so enthralled with that kid. He was a terror at the academy. Sure his tests were top of the class even competing with the top academy test scores that were set by his current Vulcan First Officer a few years back, but he wreaked havoc on the campus to teachers and other students alike. Yet when he cheated on the Kobayashi Maru and got caught, he was awarded the commendation for creative thinking.

That was his problem. Captain Kirk always did whatever he wanted and got rewarded for it. He saved the planet from being sucked into a black hole, but what about how he got there? He went against regulations to board a Federation ship, staged a mutiny against the acting captain, emotionally compromised said acting captain, and disobeyed a direct order from a captain and fought Nero head on, putting the crew in harm's way unnecessarily. He couldn't even stomach the things that happened with Khan. He flushed out a corrupt admiral, but not before almost causing a war with the Klingons. Then he had the audacity to literally cheat death. Of course he also got commendations for those actions as well.

During Kirk's short captaincy, he continuously went against regulations, omitted things from his reports, occasionally violating the prime directive, and all he does is get encouraged by the other admirals. He was headstrong, rash, stubborn, and relied on his luck to save him. The kid didn't know how to lose. No one punished him for his actions. And one day, it was going to land them in a shit storm. And when that day came, Kirk would be at a loss for what to do and would be unable to do what a real captain needs to do. His façade will crumble, leaving his much more capable first officer to pick up the pieces of his incompetence.

Setting his glass down, he picked up his PADD and scrolled through Kirk's file. He knew exactly how to show the admiralty that Kirk wasn't ready to take this responsibility. That he needed to go through the ranks like every other cadet. It's been a year and a half since his promotion and the start of the five year mission was just underway. He pulled up another file, scanning over the new mission that had just appeared in his inbox. As he read, his scowl slowly turned into a smirk. He knew exactly what mission he was going to send the Enterprise on.

+

"Goddammit Jim! How the hell do you manage to piss off every primitive indigenous species we meet?!" Dr. McCoy panted, holding his satchel bag to his body as he and his two companions ran on the uneven, dry, dessert like terrain beside him. The heavily oxygenated atmosphere combined with his heavy breathing was making him light headed, and the two suns shining brightly above them wasn't helping him feel any better. The disheveled man chanced a glance behind him and sure enough, a mob of angry yellow skinned aliens were still chasing them with their spears in hand.

"Hey it's not my fault this time!" Captain James T. Kirk gave his friend a tired grin as he shifted the unconscious security member on his back. "It's that damn pollen."

"I am too old to be running for my goddamned life. I swear to God if we get through this, I'm going to rethink my friendship with you."

Jim let out a small snort. "You always say tha-"

"I mean it this time! Are you done with that damn contraption yet Spock?" McCoy snapped, tripping slightly as the soft earth gave way underneath him.

Spock was running effortlessly, seemingly unaffected by the planetary conditions. In one hand he held a small, grey, metal box with an assortment of colorful wires coming out of the top. In his other hand was a handmade soldering iron. "I estimate it's completion to be in 30.26 seconds Doctor."

Jim turned his head to look at Spock, wishing him to hurry up. It was hard to run without breathing deeply, and the ensign on his back was heavier than he looked, and they had already been running for 5 minutes now. He wasn't sure how much longer he could run. He had to resist taking a deep breath. Just 30 more seconds. "Don't rush it Spock. If you do it wrong, it could kill them."

"I am quite aware of that Captain. I have already run the calculations 15 times." Dark chocolate eyes met Jim's sky blue ones before looking back at the device.

Jim focused on his steps, each one becoming increasingly difficult. The earth was dry and crumpled under their steps. With the added weight of the man on his back, he was sinking into the dirt more than Spock or Bones, making it twice as difficult to run. "Are you sure you want to implement this plan captain? I estimate that the percentage of your survival to be-"

"I don't want to know Spock." Jim risked a look behind him to see one of them holding a phaser. "Starfleet is going to kill me."

"We are approaching the checkpoint, Captain. Sub-space communication interference is clearing up."

"Bones, take Ensign Jenkins. Spock will go first to make sure it's clear."

The good doctor grumbled under his breath, taking the man onto his back. The moment they reached the crater, Jim pushed Bones and the ensign down into it as a phaser shot just missed the two by mere seconds. Jim kept running. They were after him. "Go with Bones, Spock."

"Captain, I cannot in good conscience leave you alone on the planet with the indigenous life forms. As I am more acclimated to a desert environment, I must insist that I be the one to-"

"Forget it Spock. I'm not putting you in danger. Go with McCoy. I don't want you near incase this goes wrong." There was hesitation on Spock's part and a flash of uncertainty in his eyes. "Don't make me make it an order Mr. Spock." Jim didn't wait for Spock to comply with his request. He grabbed the box out of Spock's hand, his fingers accidentally brushing against the Vulcan's palm as he did, before he ran ahead.

Without the weight of the ensign on his back, he found a second wind easily, picking up the pace of his steps. All he had to do was press the button on the device and throw it into the mob behind him. Any extra distance he could get between him and the angry natives would be beneficial and lessen any possible damage to him.

Just as he reached a hundred paces, Jim felt a sharp pain blast through his shoulder. Instinctively, he bit his lip, swallowing the pain. There was no question it was a phaser wound. He had no time to analyze the damage though. He forced his legs to keep going. Just another 50 paces and the others would be clear of the detonation zone. If the landing party had been beamed up upon contact, then it wasn't a problem, but there was no guarantee that the others were beamed up immediately.

Twenty paces left and Jim started up the device. The box in his hand whined, the lights blinking erratically as it charged. Mentally, the captain started the countdown.

Seven steps left before he had to throw the device. A spear grazed his side, throwing him off balanced. The unsteady ground was unrelenting, giving way under his faltering steps. Jim fell forward, his arms reaching out to catch himself. Most of his weight landed on his injured arm. His vision went white from the pain, but he stopped himself from falling completely, still on his feet. He couldn't afford to fall. The device had to be thrown in five seconds. Pulling his feet back under him, he pushed forward, turning just enough to gauge how hard he needed to throw.

The earth shook, one of this planet's many and frequent earthquakes. The timing of it was ill placed as it happened just as he was throwing the box. He felt himself falling; however Jim knew he would not be able to get back up if he did. He was too light headed from the atmosphere and injuries. The world was spinning around him.

The dark yellow sand came rushing toward him. The captain waited for the impact of the ground to come. Instead, he felt cool familiar hands wrap around him, steadying him, helping him to keep moving.

A couple unsure steps later, the device detonated. A high pitch noise emanated from the box. The frequency that could not be heard by human ears, but the pain it cause when it resonated with the nearby life forms was very real. The natives cried out in various shrieks and moans. All of them clutching their heads and dropping to their knees.

"Spock to Enterprise, two to beam up." Spock's voice came through the ringing in Kirk's ears. The device was working on him too even if he could not hear it. His head was pounding as if it would explode any minute. He could only imagine how Spock was holding up.

He welcomed the familiar feel of the transporter pulling at his molecules. Relaxing, Jim closed his eyes.

Spock felt his captain drift into unconsciousness before the image of the planet's surface disappeared from his vision, so he was prepared to bear Jim's weight when they both rematerialized onto the transporter pad upon the Enterprise.

McCoy was already waiting for them with his medical staff beside him. Just the sight of them made him go off on a tirade of curses and illogic human colloquialisms.

"I swear that kid is going to be the death of me. I'm gone for two minutes and look what happens," the doctor murmured, waving his medical tricorder over Jim's form as he was loaded into a stretcher. "Even the devil's luck has to run out at some point. What the hell is he going to do then?"

"Will he be alright, Doctor?" Spock watched the older man scowl.

"Yeah, he'll be up and running the ship in a day or so. I might have to hypo him to keep him in bed though." A mischievous glint flickered in McCoy's eyes at the idea.

"May I remind you Doctor McCoy that using hypos to intentionally keep a patient under when it serves no medical purpose is frowned upon even in human society?"

The doctor's scowl only deepened. "Then maybe I should just keep him tied to the biobed. You know Jim won't sit still the moment he wakes up. The idiot would walk around with internal bleeding until he passed out if he could get away with it, and you and I both know he has tried."

Spock considered the statement. With a small nod of acknowledgment, he responded. "I concede to your argument and judgment doctor."

"You damn right you concede. Now I better see you in sickbay by the time I finish up with Jim."

"I am in no need of medical attention doctor. I am quite functional."

The good doctor brushed off his comment with his own observations. "Like hell you are. You're bleeding from the ears, you're swaying on your feet, and don't forget, I was down on that god forsaken planet with you as they tied you to the wooden post in the middle of the village and beat you for looking like one of their evil spirits until Jim managed to convince them otherwise. You may be 'functional', but you are not operating at optimal capacity either. Don't make me make it an order Commander." McCoy left the transporter room, scowling at Spock one last time before the automatic door closed behind him.

+

"I'm fine Bones. Get that thing out of my face already." Jim had awakened by the time Bones came to look over his captain's treatment. As usual, the blonde captain had tried to escape sickbay the moment he had regained consciousness. It took waving a hypo in his face and several threats of injecting him with embarrassing diseases to get him to stay put.

"Don't give me that Jim. I had to patch you up _again_. I don't know how Spock puts up with your childish antics all the time."

Jim made a face. "I'm not that bad."

"Really? Because the hole in your shoulder says otherwise. And don't you even start," the doctor interrupted the man on the biobed when he opened his mouth to protest. "How often have you ended up in med bay from supposedly peaceful missions? I have the entire staff on alert the moment you say you're going to beam down. Do you have a death wish? Do you want me to die from stress?"

"What did you expect me to do Bones? Let the natives destroy themselves under the influence of those spores? They are just entering the Iron Age, starting their civilization. I had to fix it."

The doctor just sighed. "I know Jim. You did the right thing, but sometimes I think you jump into danger head first without thinking."

"And that's why you're here Dr. McCoy. To patch me up, so I can save the world."

McCoy gave him his infamous scowl just as Spock entered med bay. "There you are you green blooded hobgoblin. Go sit down on a bed, and I'll get to you the moment I finish up with this infant."

"Doctor, referring to the captain as an infant no matter how appropriate the term may apply to his often erratic behavior is inappropriate when addressing a senior officer." The response to Spock's statement was an exasperated eye roll.

"Just sit down Spock."

The Vulcan stared at Jim for a moment before responding. "Doctor as I told you before, I am perfectly fine. The only thing I am in need of is meditation. Now if you will excuse me Doctor, Captain, I have duties I must attend to." Spock turned on his heal and left before the doctor could say anything.

"Damn hobgoblin and his Vulcan mind voodoo. Why bother coming to sickbay if he's just going to refuse and walk out? I'm going to have to threaten him with pulling medical code again." He muttered under his breath as he checked the dermal regenerator's work. "It will be a little sore. You have a choice, pills or hypo for the pain."

"Pills," was his immediate reply. He didn't need his neck sore from McCoy stabbing him again. "Hey, do you think Spock is acting a little weird?"

Raising an eyebrow, the doctor looked up after putting the captain's arm in a sling. "Nothing out of the ordinary for that walking computer."

"Bones," Jim warned.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. No, I haven't seen anything unusual. Why?"

Jim shifted on the bed, careful not to agitate his shoulder. "It's just . . . Spock seems to be more withdrawn lately, his emotions seem to be closer to the surface than he would normally be comfortable with, and he hasn't accepted a chess invitation in weeks."

The doctor stood up and walked across the room to pull out his hidden stash of Andorian Ale. He grabbed two glasses with his free hand and poured himself and his commanding officer a glass, handing one to Jim. "Truth is one of the nurses is also worried. Spock told him that his meditations have not been working as it should thanks to the destruction of Vulcan. His people have been having similar problems over the past year. Spock has been holding up better than his Vulcan counterparts most likely because of his human blood, but without meditation to stabilize that gigantic brain of his, eventually it will catch up to him."

"And you couldn't have told me this sooner?" The glare Jim was sending him did nothing to faze the older man.

"Don't give me that Jim. Doctor, patient confidentiality. I don't go around telling your business to everyone."

"Not everyone, just Spock."

"Because you're a damn child, and I can't babysit you twenty four seven. Spock is willing to do it without complaint."

The captain waved his arm telling him to stop right there. "I get it. Thanks for telling me. Am I good to go?"

"I could try to make you stay, but that would just make us both miserable. Get out of my sickbay. If you come back here before your next physical, I'll make sure you sit through the entire conference call with the admirals without bailing you out early."

"Thanks Bones!" Downing the content of his glass, he gave a quick pat on his friend's back, and he was out of room before McCoy could change his mind.

The Enterprise was as lively as usual. Occasionally, he would receive a salute from a crewman or a friendly smile. He smiled back, unable to return the salutes due to the sling. McCoy told him to keep it on for a day or two to keep strain off his shoulder. Chances were he would take it off early. Without the use of his arm, he felt too vulnerable. Still, it was nice to see the happy faces of his crew, his family.

He stopped at the door to his quarters then glanced at the door next to his. How was Spock doing? He had not seen him outside of duty for three weeks now and truth be told, he missed his friend's dry sense of humor, the games of chess, and the small displays of emotion that slipped into his human eyes. He had meant to reach out over the weeks, but the paperwork never seemed to end. Low and behold a few days ago he found out the admiralty had been making him do twice as much paper work in their effort to keep him busy. He discarded the excess work immediately afterwards. He couldn't wait to have that conversation when he subtly told them he realized what they were up to.

Taking a few steps down the hall he stopped at Spock's door and knocked. He waited. When the familiar deep voice didn't respond, he tried again. Still there was no answer. He was one step away from using his override code when the door swished open and a surprised Spock stood at the door. "Captain? What may I ask brings you here?"

"What? Not going to invite your commanding officer in Mr. Spock?"He teased, a playful look in his eye.

"Pardon me Captain. Please come in." He stepped aside to let his commanding officer through.

Jim wasted no time in taking the invitation, pausing for a moment to notice the red meditating mat laid out on the floor and the lit candles around it. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were meditating. I would have left you alone if I had known."

"I believe I told you I would meditate when you were being examined by the good doctor. There was no point in waiting to do so."

Jim winced slightly. "Yeah, you did say that didn't you. How are your ears by the way?"

"My ears are adequate Captain."

"It's Jim, Spock. We're off duty. How many times must I remind you to call me Jim," he replied exasperated.

"Apparently thirty six times, Ca- . . . Jim."

Jim frowned. Spock had gotten into the habit of calling him Jim off duty, but recently he had deferred back to the formal tones and conversations as if distancing himself from their friendship. It was things like this that caused the captain to worry about the sudden behavioral change of his First Officer.

Still he felt skeptical about his First Officer's health. Turning around he observed the Vulcan's room. "Well Spock, the Christmas party is coming up, and I'm going to need you to play the elf this year. You're going to have to smile and dance for the crew too."

When Spock didn't say anything about how the entire situation was illogical and not apart of his duties, he turned pointing an accusing finger at him. "I knew it! You've been lip reading haven't you? Your ears were damaged."

Spock stood silently, merely raising an eyebrow and admitting to nothing.

"Fine, fine. I get it. You won't go to Bones, and you'll meditate or something to aid the recovery process. How are your meditations going anyway?"

Spock's posture became more rigid at the question and as Jim expected had ended up in uncomfortable waters for the Vulcan. If Spock wanted too, he could be the most stubborn person Jim knew and would hold his thoughts and opinions close to him where no one could reach. Jim hadn't expected him to answer; however, Spock surprised him. Just around the corners of his eyes, weariness slipped onto his stoic face. "Meditation has been proving . . . difficult as of late."

"But you need that to keep your mind ordered right?"

"I will not let it affect my work if that is what you are inquiring, Jim."

"I'm not saying that it will Spock. I am worrying about you as a friend." Jim smiled gently.

Spock met his eyes for a moment before looking away. "Of course, Jim."

Spock stood perfectly still as the captain moved about the room. "You center your mind usually before you try to meditate right? What do you do when you have trouble doing that?"

"I have various methods; however, currently those options have proved to be ineffective."

"I see." With careful hands, Jim picked up the antiqued 3D chess board. "Have you tried playing chess to center your mind?"

"I have not considered it as the activity's purpose is to stimulate the mind by thinking and creating strategies to out maneuver your opponent in contrast to focusing on centering within one's self."

Jim grinned. "But it relaxes you doesn't it? Maybe that's all you need. It's worth a try."

Spock considered the proposal. Jim could see it in his eyes. After a moment Spock nodded. "I find the idea agreeable."

"Great." Jim set up the board and Spock sat across from him taking the black side as his usual preference. It was amazing how easy they both fell into the rhythm of the game. Each turn Spock relaxed a little more, letting his guard down, and Jim watched the transformation quietly. Every once in a while the Vulcan would glance up at Jim, and his emotions would flash across his eyes, some he couldn't name.

As the silence settle around them, Spock continued to steal glances at Jim between moves. The human however kept his eyes on the board, considering his next move. Smiling, he moved his queen to queen's level 3. "Tell me what's on your mind Spock."

Spock responded to Jim's move by moving his queen to king's level one. "Do you have a death wish Jim?"

His eyebrows drew together in confusion, still focusing on the board but no longer actually seeing it. "Have you been talking to Bones again?"

"I was the logical choice to activate the sonic generator down on Rana II. I should have assumed the role you took upon yourself."

Jim looked up, the corners of his eyes tight. "Spock, I don't want to talk about this right now. Let's just finish the game alright."

Spock refused to let up, pressing the subject though he knew he should have stopped. "Do you not care about your life, Captain? I have found that if there is an emergency, there is a 89.726 percent chance of you assuming a hazardous role or taking unnecessary risks yourself instead of another crewmember."

Sitting up in his chair straighter, Jim met the Vulcan's gaze head on. "No. It's not that I don't value my life. I value it more than you are anyone on this ship will ever know, but I can never ask others to put their life on the line if I can't even do it myself. To me, their lives are worth more to me than my own. Sure, I'm captain. I'm supposed to stay safely on the bridge and have everyone else take the risks, but I became captain, so I can protect those people. If that means I get banged up more often than other captains, so be it. If it means I have a higher chance of getting killed, bring it on. But that is my problem, not yours."

Silence filled the room once again. The weight of Jim's words was heavy in the atmosphere. Spock took his time making his move. "If I had not been there Jim, you would have died."

A chuckle escaped the human as he studied the board. "True and I thank you for saving me once again Mr. Spock. "

"Your thanks are illogical. I was merely performing my duties as your First Officer by ensuring your welfare, Jim."

A smirk tugged at the captain's lips. Reaching over the board, Jim knocked over his white king, admitting defeat. Spock raised an eyebrow a margin, the only sign that the Vulcan had been taken by surprise at the sudden show of surrender. "While an average player would surrender due to the current conditions of the board, this is the first instance you have surrendered in the midst of a game."

"And?"

"Do you, and I quote, 'Do not believe in no-win scenarios'?" Spock quoted back to him the same phrase he had said when confronting the Vulcan over the Kobayashi Maru.

Jim merely shrugged at the question. "I'm tired Spock. It's been a long day. I've been shot at, my ears are still ringing, and the medication Bones gave me is making me sleepy."

"In that case, I will consider this game a stalemate as neither of us are operating at an acceptable capacity at the moment."

"I think I can agree to those terms. I'm going to hit the sack. Make sure you see Bones if you're hearing is still suffering tomorrow. I'll see you in the morning." Jim had just turned to leave Spock's quarters when his communicator chirped. A soft groan escaped the tired human and sent the piece of technology a glare.

"Work never ends does it?" Jim had asked it as a rhetorical question, and he was sure Spock knew the statement meant to be one too.

Never the less, he decided to answer it. "As captain of Starfleet's number one flagship, you are to be available at all times."

"Yeah, yeah. I know Spock. You weren't supposed to say anything." He flipped open his communicator, looking slightly amused at his friend. "Kirk here. What do you need Lieutenant?"

"Starfleet command is transmitting a message for you sir. It's marked urgent. Shall I forward it to ready room one sir?"

"That would be great Lieutenant. I'll be there momentarily. Kirk out." He closed the device and gave Spock a guilty smile. "Looks like I still have duties left before I hit the sack. Try to get some meditating done okay?"

"I will endeavor to do so Captain." His commanding officer rolled his eyes at the formal title again but did not bother to correct him this time.

Jim left the Vulcan's quarters, completely missing the subtle look of longing directed at his back.


	2. Spock related problems

"I'm telling you Spock, the admiralty is trying to piss me off. Do you realize how little information they tend to give us about these missions? I mean they tell us to go check out a mining colony and we find out there is an ancient sentient silicon based being that oozes acid. Do you know how many shirts I have to replace each month because we never know what we're dealing with?" Kirk stabbed at his mashed potatoes with his fork, barely looking up at Spock or McCoy. He had been up all night talking his way out of how he didn't directly violate the prime directive, and at the end of the call, he received vague details of their next mission. It pretty much went, there was something wrong with the planet, go find out what it is and try to fix it.

"Captain, I am certain that if Starfleet had more information, they would inform us. Not doing so is unproductive, essentially dangerous, and illogical."

"Ignore him Spock; he's just cranky from not sleeping." McCoy sent Jim a smirk. "Tell me Jim, when's the last time you slept."

The captain grumbled, turning his aggression onto his chicken. "3 hours before we went down to the planet."

Bones smirk quickly turned into a frown. "Jesus Jim, that was over 50 hours ago."

"52.37 hours to be exact."

Bones sent Spock a glare. "Jim, you need to get some sleep."

"I will after my shift, Bones. It's only another 4 hours."

Bones raised a skeptical eyebrow. "At least eat your lunch. You missed breakfast again."

"Yes mom." Jim rolled his eyes and finally took his first bite of his meal.

Spock rose from his seat, having already finished his salad and plomeek soup. "If you will excuse me Captain, Doctor, I have a few experiments to oversee before I must return to the bridge."

Kirk watched the back of his friend from the table unconsciously stabbing his food again.

"Jim, those potatoes are already mashed and have done you no harm."

"Sorry." He forced himself to let go of his fork. "But you see what I mean right? He said 'a few' not a specific number."

"Yeah, I'm starting to see." Bones reached over, stealing a carrot from Jim's plate, not that the captain minded when his vegetables disappeared. "Seems to me like he's making a good old fashioned human excuse to me."

A quiet sigh escaped him. "Yeah, I was thinking the same thing."

"Don't let it get to you Jim."

He glanced up at his friend, a tired smile pulling at his lips. "I won't. "

Jim started focusing on his meal, forcing it down even though he wasn't hungry. Satisfied that his friend was finally eating, Bones left as well, returning to his sickbay.

The captain remained, observing the lively atmosphere created by his crew: the laughing, the talking, and the occasional drama. Since becoming captain of the Enterprise, it had always been him, Bones, and Spock. Bones was always nagging him and calling him crazy for one reason or another, but Jim had grown used to it since they had roomed together at the academy. Having Bones as his CMO was like having a bit of home with him. Spock on the other hand wasn't so easy to get along with at first, and it was difficult being around him so often while adjusting to their new roles as captain and first officer. Spock would question him on everything as he was a stickler for regulations and often disagreed with him for one reason or another, but there had always been some sort of understanding between them after the _Narada_. No matter how bad their fights got, no matter what might have been said at the time, they would put it behind them after they both settled down without apologies. Soon enough they were enjoying each other's company off duty during meals and playing chess three times a week.

Both men ended up having important roles in his life as a captain. Bones was his voice of passion, the one who always wanted to do the right thing, save as many lives as possible, hurt no one, and tell him whenever his head was up his ass. Spock was his voice of reason, the one who would quote him regulations and tell him the consequences of their actions and keep him acting somewhat like a proper captain. The two of them balanced him out, allowing his decisions to find ground somewhere in the middle.

While McCoy was a great friend and a better drinking buddy, Spock was different—Jim wouldn't be able to tell anyone why, but it was true. He was a friend, a good one at that. He was witty and sarcastic, smart and . . . kind. Very kind. It was a shame that no one seemed to try to see past the Vulcan exterior.

Now that Spock was distancing himself, it seemed like something was missing. Spock was the only one he could match wits against, both in chess and conversation, the only one who he could talk about all aspects of work to, and recently, Spock had been teaching him Vulcan. Being with Spock was relaxing yet stimulating, exciting but peaceful. Perhaps McCoy should worry about his title of best friend being stolen. Jim chuckled to himself at that. It wouldn't matter much if Spock continued to keep to himself. He would have to change that.

Deciding on what to do, Jim got up and deposited his tray. He would have to corner Spock, and he knew just how to do it.

+

The moment Spock's relief came onto the bridge, the captain was out of his chair and charging towards the turbolift before Spock could escape him. He just managed to squeeze through as the doors closed. Spock merely looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Thought you could escape me Mr. Spock?" He grinned, proud that he managed to catch the Vulcan before he could hide out in one of the labs for the rest of the night.

"Not at all Captain as I was not trying to 'escape' from you." The calm tone in his voice was enough to grate on Kirk's nerves. Reaching past his first officer, he pushed the emergency stop, jamming it hard with his thumb, his eyes glued to Spock's. "Captain?"

"Why are you avoiding me Spock?" The intensity in his blue eyes dared Spock to contradict him.

"Captain, as much as I question its logic, this is the only turbo lift from the bridge, and I am certain that the other crew members would like to utilize it very soon." Spock leaned forward to release the emergency stop, but Jim side stepped to make it inaccessible to the Vulcan. It also brought Jim into his friend's personal space as a result. Exasperation flittered across Spock's brown eyes, his body very rigid. "Captain."

"It's Jim, Spock. Duty ended five minutes ago, and you know it. What the hell is going on with you? We've been getting along great for several months now, we only fight about regulations every other day now instead of every other minute, and if anyone asked, I would say you were one of my closest friends." The hardness in his gaze softened. "So why does it seem like you can barely stay in the same room as me these days."

Spock took a step back, getting as much distance between his captain and himself as the limited space in the turbolift would allow. His face betrayed no emotion except the fact that he stared straight ahead and spared no glance at Jim. "I cannot say I reciprocate the sentiment Captain."

A frown tugged at the corners of his lips. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Until I am able to meditate and better control my shields, I cannot allow myself to interact with you as I have in the past." If he had been anyone else, Jim would not have notice the hesitation in his words, but it still stung to hear them spoken aloud.

"Why not?"

Spock's eyes glanced at him for a split second and for a moment, it seemed like he wanted to fidget until his Vulcan controls suppressed the urge. "My meditations have been inadequate as of late as you are well aware. It is best to avoid situations that strain my controls and invoke emotional responses from me."

"You're avoiding me . . . because I invoke emotional responses in you."

Spock gave him curt nod, not adding anything else.

Disbelief was the first thing Kirk felt run through him, then anger. His fist clenched at his side, shaking. Closing his eyes, he let out a breath before turning his gaze back up to the Vulcan. "That's not necessarily a bad thing Spock. I know Vulcans are all about restraint on their emotions, but your part human too. Maybe letting a little emotion through when you're with a friend is just what you need to help get your mind centered."

"That will be impossible Jim for I don't think of you as a friend."

Jim could only stare, emotions racing across his face in an instant; hurt being the most obvious one. When he opened his mouth, the turbolift jerked to life, starting it's decent. An engineer must have overrided the emergency stop. Jim stepped away from the control panel and took his spot at Spock's side, keeping his eyes forward. In a carefully controlled tone that would make a Vulcan proud, Jim spoke. "Alright Mr. Spock. If that's what you want, I'll keep things strictly professional between us. I don't want to cause my first officer any additional discomfort."

"Jim. . . I—" But it was too late. The doors to the lift opened, and Jim walked out with a quick and crisp, "Commander."

Jim marched straight into sickbay, heading right for the liquor cabinet hidden behind McCoy's desk not sparing a look at his best friend. He must have looked pissed off because everyone seemed to hurry out of his way, and the medbay cleared out the moment he walked in for the exception of one engineer who McCoy was looking over. Judging by the nervous glances the ensign was giving him, he was ready to bolt as well.

With a slight scowl, covering Bones' concern, he gave the young man a pat on the back, allowing him to leave. "Jim, mind telling me why you are scaring off all my patients?" Jim had taken the desk chair, so McCoy pulled up another, sitting opposite of him. His question wasn't answered however, causing the scowl to disappear and more concern to shine through.

Jim continued to sit tight lipped, pouring himself a large glass of the very illegal Romulan ale. Seeing that he was not ready to talk, the doctor busied himself with cleaning up his desk, organizing the PADDs, hypos, and samples crowding the surface. He knew that when Jim was like this, there was no use trying to pry it out of him. He would talk when he was ready. He had found that out the hard way in the past and never planned to repeat that mistake.

Kirk watched him move about as he sipped his ale, not muttering a word, and Bones let him. Once he finished tidying up, he got to work on his reports. Bones had forgotten that Jim was still in the room when he finally spoke, completely engrossed in his reports. "I confronted him. In the turbolift. He told me that he was avoiding me because I cause him to feel emotion and that he doesn't think of me as a friend."

"Jim he's Vulcan. He's supposed to say those things."

"You weren't there Bones. He tried to keep as much space between us as possible. Barely looked me in the eye the entire time. It was like if he touched me everything would fall apart," he replied angrily, staring at the blue liquid. His knuckles were white from grasping the glass so hard that McCoy could hear the glass strain against the pressure.

Diligently, McCoy wrestled the cup away from his tight grip before the glass could break. "So what if he's not your friend Jim. You didn't care when you first got on board the Enterprise."

The psychology degree was coming out, Jim could already tell even in his intoxicated state. It was one of the things he loved about Bones. While Jim could dodge any question a psychologist threw at him, he couldn't help but confide in Bones as friend, and he trusted the doctor to keep it between them without him blabbing to Starfleet about every little issue. He couldn't say that about the actual ship psychologist. "I don't know. It's just that . . .," he paused, thinking about what he really wanted to say. "Is it so bad to have emotion? You and I know that Spock feels even if he suppresses them. We don't see it often, but we know it's there, but he insists that he doesn't have them, that he's not supposed to have them. Cold logic isn't the way to go either. They think that emotions can cause savagery? What about cold unrelenting logic?! It can be even worse!" His voice gradually grew louder until he was standing, trying to convey his point almost desperate to do so.

Bones just sat calmly, staring at Jim with understanding eyes. "You're not talking about Spock anymore, are you?"

Guilt at being caught crossed his features. Slowly, he sat down, nodding grimly. "No . . . I'm not."

"Jim," McCoy leaned forward, taking the bottle of liquor when Jim kept eyeing it. "That happened a long time ago."

"I know. I know." Jim ran his fingers through his hair, still glancing at the confiscated bottle. "I'm just tired. Some sleep and I'll be good as new." He rose from the desk, his eyes cast down to the floor.

"Jim, you haven't been having those nightmares recently right? If you are—"

"I'm fine, Bones. Honest. I haven't had those dreams since that class. I'm good." He did his best to smile. "I think I'll head to bed now. We'll be at our destination in a couple days, and I have sleep to catch up on."

"Alright Jim. If you need to talk, I'm here. Now get some sleep, doctor's orders," McCoy said in his heavy southern accent, giving his friend a smirk.

Jim moved around the desk, making his exit, but at the door he paused and said, "Thanks Bones. For listening."

"No problem, Jim."

+

Kirk stood front and center of briefing room A. His eyes glanced over each senior officer in the room. There were only 2 hours away from the planet, and it was time to decide how they were going to handle the situation on Brekka V. However, the meeting couldn't start until Spock arrived. It was unusual for him not to be 10 minutes early for meeting like this, but for him to be the last to arrive was downright unheard off.

"I apologize for being late Captain." All eyes turned to Spock as he entered.

"Not at all Commander. You had a minute to spare." The captain didn't meet his first officer's eyes, keeping them looking straight ahead. Spock took his place beside Kirk though with slightly more room between them than usual.

The crew had noticed the giant shift in their relationship. Instead of eating in the mess with Spock, Jim took his meals in his room or Doctor McCoy's office, conversation between the two was kept completely duty related, and all interaction between the two officers outside of the bridge stopped completely. Even their normal arguments on the bridge had stopped, like they couldn't bother to acknowledge each other's existence.

Leonard McCoy knew better though. He was the first to admit that he didn't like Spock the moment he laid eyes on him. His constant talk of logic and the occasional slight against humans irritated him to no end. However, constant life and death missions with the Vulcan changed his view slowly but surely. The insulting nicknames he had come up for Spock turned into friendly banter. Sure, he was often irritated with the hobgoblin. He was often irritated with a lot of people, but now he was also better at reading what Spock tried not to show. That's why he was the only one to notice that Spock absolutely did not like this current development.

Over the past two days, McCoy had watched the two idiots. While Jim was avoiding Spock like the plague, he would miss the moments Spock tried to reach out. Four separate times, Spock tried to gain his captain's attention. Each time, Jim was out the door before he had a chance to continue. With the additional glances in Jim's direction, it didn't take long for him to figure out that the distance was really bothering him.

Normally, he would stay out of their arguments, but this one had been worse than their usual squabbles. Which was why he had confronted Spock just before this meeting.

_"I am here as you requested Doctor. You said this was urgent." Spock walked into McCoy's quarters, his appearance as immaculate as always, and his expression carefully hidden away behind his mask._

_"Sit down Spock." The elder man gestured to a seat at his desk._

_Dark eyes briefly stared at the piece of furniture. "The mission debriefing will begin in 30 minutes. I do not have time for—"_

_"Shut up you stupid hobgoblin and sit down."_

_Spock raised an eyebrow but never the less complied with the request._

_"Now you listen here. I normally don't go and get myself involved in you two's arguments, but when it starts affecting the crew's moral and affecting the teamwork of the command team, I got to interfere."_

_"Our teamwork has not been affected, and I do not believe that your involvement is—"_

_"Don't give me that you green-blooded computer. No matter the problem, you two have never acted like this." Spock opened his mouth to say something, but McCoy sent him a death glare, daring him to interrupt him. "What the hell were you thinking, telling Jim that you didn't think of him as a friend? Surely you know how much your friendship means to Jim."_

_"I was merely telling the truth. I do not see the captain as a friend."_

_"Then how do you see him? You two have been inseparable since the_ Narada _incident, so you have to feel something for him."_

_Spock became unnaturally still even for a Vulcan and his eyes looked just to the right avoiding the doctor's gaze. "I do not believe that is your concern Doctor McCoy." His voice was cold, Spock's way of telling him to drop the subject._

_Then it dawned on him. The doctor's eyes widened and his mouth dropped slightly. The over protectiveness Spock tended to exhibit towards Jim, the slips of emotion he showed towards him, the convenient interruption Spock seemed to always make whenever Jim was with a woman on a mission. No, Spock had not lied. He truly did not see Jim as a friend. "You—"_

_"If it is acceptable to you, Doctor, I would find it most amicable if you kept your new found discovery to yourself. I do not wish for him to know nor do I ever plan on act on it." Words seemed to elude McCoy even as Spock stood up. "If you excuse me, I wish to meditate before the debriefing." Spock walked out before McCoy could say anything._

The revelation on Spock's true feelings had stunned him so much, that it took a good five minutes to wrap around the information. Now, sitting at the conference table and watching the strained interaction between his commanding officers, he wondered if he should tell Jim the truth. As far as he knew Jim was not interested in men, but the truth would help Jim understand why Spock was really avoiding him. If anyone had told him that there would come a point in his life where he would end up trying to help a Vulcan with love problems a year ago, he would have had that person admitted to a psych ward. 

"Alright listen up. " Jim placed his hands on the table. "Mr. Spock will brief you on what the planetary situation was before we lost contact. Mr. Spock."

Spock stepped forward, bringing up the report onto the screen. "Before contact was lost, the planet was undergoing diplomatic relations between the colonist and the native inhabitants. From reports, the natives are peace dwelling and live off the land. Formal diplomatic negotiations were in process to make the inhabitants a member of the Federation. From all reports that have been received, there have been no disagreements recorded nor have there been any confrontations between the two groups since the creation of the colony."

Jim nodded. "Due to the relative peace between the colonists and natives, we are not certain what to expect on the planet. Our current mission is to assess the situation and resolve it if we can on Brekka V. The only information we have of the current situation is that there is no communication channels open on the planet, that the planet's defensive field is still active, and that no one has come or gone from that planet in two months. Our only option is to send a landing party down onto the planet via shuttle to deactivate the field stopping transporter capabilities and try to get communications back up. Depending on the situation we might need to supply resources if they are needed or evacuate the colonists.

"We will need to be prepared for anything. The landing party will consist of myself, Doctor McCoy, Lieutenant Uhura, and 3 security officers." Jim turned his eyes to Giotto. "I'll leave the assignment of the officers up to you. I'll trust your judgment on who will be most suitable for the positions."

Spock stepped forward. "Captain, if I may interject, I would prefer to be in the landing party."

"That will not be necessary, Mr. Spock. As you often state, both of us in the landing party is not only illogic but against regulations." He would not meet Spock's eyes as he spoke. Doing so, he saw the surprise on the crew's faces at his comment. No one had ever quoted regulation back at Spock before because no one knew regulations better than him.

"Captain, I insist on being part of the landing party. Having an additional science officer in the landing party has proved to be quite beneficial in the past and has gotten us out of many improbable situations. Keeping me on the bridge will lower our chances of success by thirty-nine percent."

Everyone's eyes were on Captain Kirk, awaiting his decision. He knew he couldn't win. All impossible situations Jim had faced in the past were because Spock had been there. As angry as he was, he could not chance failure because he decided to leave him behind. "All right Mr. Spock, you have made your point. You will join the landing, party. Scotty, that leaves you in charge of my ship. Don't get a scratch on her."

"Aye, sir. Ye can count on me to keep her purring like a kitten." The Scott grinned like a madman and Jim couldn't help but grin back.

"Alright, you have your assignments, landing party I want you ready to depart in exactly 2 hours from now. Giotto, forward me your choices to my PADD, so I can approve them. Everyone, dismissed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments please


	3. Jim and Landing Parties Don't Mix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read and comment. Also read note at end. And just so you all know, it was a pain in the ass to write cause my computer crashed like 25 times while I was writing this.

The shuttle bay was crawling with engineers, double checking everything to ensure a safe flight for their commanding officers. Scotty was overseeing the entire process, barking orders with bits of frustration slowly forming on his face. "What are ye doing lad? If ye work any slower, I'm going to grow grey hair by the time yer done. We have a schedule to keep."

Jim couldn't help but smile at the Scott as he approached the Galileo. He trusted no one else to take care of his ship and all of its components, and if something did manage to go wrong, he could trust Scotty to fix it. "Breathe, Scotty. I'm sure everything is in perfectly working order."

"I have no doubt that it's in perfectly working order, Captain. Just adding a few upgrades to account for anything that always seems to go bloody wrong," Scotty said in his thick Scottish accent, eying Jim as he spoke as if the young captain intentionally went looking for trouble. "The haul is a bit stronger, and I rewired the circuits to send a wee bit more power to the shields to compensate for the fact that Mr. Spock would not allow me to install a miniature photon canon to defend yerselves if need be."

"Mr. Scott, need I remind you that that adding weaponry to the shuttles must first be cleared with headquarters unless dire circumstances call for it." Spock came up from behind them, not even glancing away at the PADD in his hands.

"With you two it always turns into a dire circumstance if you don't mind me saying. Better safe than sorry I always say."

Chocolate eyes looked up at the engineer, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards just slightly in silent agreement.

Jim left them to their continued debate on the issue. He had a sneaking suspicion Spock actually enjoyed arguing with people, not that the Vulcan would ever admit it. After all, Spock would intentionally irritate Bones on occasion.

No, he couldn't afford to think about Spock. Even thinking that, he couldn't stop himself from looking back at his first officer. His face was as stoic as ever but amusement was ever so present in his eyes as he calmly argued with his chief engineer.

Forcing himself to focus on the task at hand, he went over the supplies one more time. They should have everything: emergency rations, medical supplies, extra clothes, phasers, replicators, and other emergency equipment.

He was so distracted by his attempts to not think of Spock and focusing on the task at hand that he didn't see McCoy's approach until he felt a hand on his shoulder that yanked him around. Kirk winced as it was his sore shoulder, but the doctor held no sympathy for him. "Easy, easy. That's still a bit sore you know."

"Jim, I got to talk to you about Spock."

Immediately the captain's friendly blue eyes darkened. Turning his head away, he pulled his shoulder from McCoy's grasp. "Nothing to talk about Bones. He doesn't want me around outside of work."

A growl escaped the doctor. "Don't be an idiot. You know Spock is bad with words sometimes."

Jim looked up from his PADD, his expression hard. "Oh really, then what did he mean since you are so convinced that my first officer didn't express himself correctly."

The older man's mouth opened to say something, but hesitated, his eyes flickering to somewhere behind Jim. His scowl deepened when his eyes returned to his superior officer. "If you'd stop pissing around for a second, you'd see that he actually—"

"Captain, we are ready to depart." Spock had spoken from behind Jim, but his eyes were locked on McCoy. "Did I interrupt?" Jim didn't miss his friend's curse under his breath about stubborn Vulcan's before pushing past them both and storming off to the shuttle.

Blue eyes met brown for a split moment before Jim averted his gaze first. "Thank you Mr. Spock. Let's hope that we aren't too late to stop whatever is going on down there." As he handed the device to Spock, their fingers accidentally brushed. The long slender hand retreated so quickly that Jim did not pay attention to the small pleasant tingle that shot through him from the contact. He only noticed how the Vulcan was almost desperate to get away, walking quickly to the shuttle, following McCoy.

The action hurt more than it should of. He was aware of that. Whether his first officer liked him or not shouldn't even concern him. As long as he followed orders and was loyal to him and the crew, it should not matter— and yet, it did. The two days spent avoiding him was hard. He had no idea how he was going to keep it professional only being stuck together for who knew how long on this mission. He wanted to reach out again. Maybe Bones was right and Spock only said those things because it was expected of him. The thought had crossed his mind.

"Captain, we are waiting on you," Ensign Pennington stood just outside the shuttle in his red uniform, looking at his captain expectantly. The man was young, no older than twenty with bright red hair and green eyes. His freckles made him look even younger. Though the ensign was young, he had many useful skills including engineering knowledge and an excellent hand to hand combat record which was why Kirk had approved him for the delicate mission despite his young age. With a quick glance around, he confirmed that the others were already inside, and he was the last to board.

Pushing away his problems wasn't easy, but he managed, slapping on a grin. "Thank you Ensign. Let's get this show on the road." Jim entered first with the Ensign close behind.

Everyone was already seated and buckled. Security took the seats closest to the door near the rear of the shuttle, Bones was seated next to Uhura just behind the pilot's seat, and Spock, Jim had to take a deep breath though he knew it was going to happen, was seated in the co-pilot's seat. With only a slight pause, he took his seat up front in the pilot's seat.

"Systems check, Mr. Spock," Kirk asked, sitting down and starting up the engines.

"All systems are online and readings are optimal, Captain." Spock replied quickly.

"All right Mr. Spock; let's take her out of here. Are we clear to launch, Mr. Scott?"

"Shuttle bay doors are opening, Captain. Yer clear to depart in 10 seconds." The countdown started and both Spock and Kirk focused on departure procedures.

When Jim placed his hands on the control counsel, Spock gave him a small look of surprise. "Captain, autopilot is much more precise."

"No matter what anyone says Spock, an actual pilot is better than a computer any day." At the skeptical look, Jim grinned. "I only plan to take her out of shuttle bay and possibly land. I promise autopilot will be engaged the rest of the time if it makes you feel better. Just don't blame me if my piloting skills get rusty."

Spock only lifted an eyebrow in skepticism but did not add another word. For a moment, things seemed normal between them, and Jim took a bit of comfort in that. Only a little as the oppressive atmosphere returned soon after. They were an hour from the planet as they couldn't risk the Enterprise being detected if there was a hostile presence somewhere nearby. The shuttle was small enough that it was possible to go undetected if scanners were not checked carefully.

As time passed, the atmosphere grew heavier as no one spoke. Normally, Jim would have no difficulty striking up conversation with his landing party; however, even he was not in the mood to talk much, so silence prevailed the first thirty minutes of the trip besides the occasional cough or shifts in clothing.

Taking the situation into his own hands, McCoy smiled before saying, "Who wants to bet 100 credits that Jim will lose his shirt fighting some random alien while we're down there?" The desired affect was instantaneous. Jim choked at the random comment while the crew members smiled.

"Actually Doctor McCoy, 200 credits on whether or not the captain's communicator will malfunction, get lost, taken, or/and endure subspace communication interference is a better bet." Chuckles escaped the crew this time. Even Spock's lips curled at the corners just slightly.

"Ensign, betting on whether the captain will suffer some sort of misfortune while on the mission is illogical. After all, the probability of such occurrences happening would not make the bet challenging as it is most likely to occur."

Jim stared at Spock with his jaw dropped while the rest of the crew laughed at his expense. "I'm not that bad!"

"On the contrary captain, there does seem to be a distinct pattern when it comes to our landing missions. You yourself had even mentioned the amount of replaced shirts only 2.38 days ago."

"Spock does have a point," Uhura smiled, a spark of mischief in her dark eyes. "Routine missions tend to become eventful whenever you go down to a planet." There were murmurs of agreement, and the captain chose not to argue it. The mood was lighter, and he preferred smiles on his crew's faces.

"Then it's a good thing I have the best crew to back me up." He flashed her a smile.

"Not going to do you much good when you have an allergic reaction to one of McCoy's hypos." And so, more jabs at Jim's expense continued. It seemed like they had just started when Spock announced they were going to enter the atmosphere in 1 minute.

"What are the scanners showing Mr. Spock?"

A frown tugged at the corners of Spock's mouth. "Nothing Captain."

"Don't get me wrong Mr. Spock, but normally that should be a good thing." Jim's smile faded when the Vulcan's expression did not change.

"I mean is there is absolutely nothing on the scanners. No aircrafts, no native life readings, and only the fourth of the colonists are appearing."

"Any ships in the planet's vicinity?"

"Negative, Captain." Spock leaned back in his seat. "We're entering the atmosphere in 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1," the shuttle shook as they hit atmosphere. Though the dampeners took care of the worst of the shaking, some vibrations could still be felt.

As they broke through, Jim couldn't help but stare in shock at the ground beneath them. He had seen pictures of this planet when he received the mission. It had been gorgeous with beautiful clean rivers, blue green grass, that went as far as the eye could see with tall red mountains with snowy peaks in the background, and occasionally a tall tree with the most entrancing violet leaves that cast shadows to protect the living creatures from the sunlight. He saw none of that beauty. Instead he saw scorched earth, burned remains still glowing with embers drifting into the afternoon sky for at least 3 miles.

"What the he—," Jim never finished as the shuttle shook violently. "Mr. Spock, what's going on?"

"It seems there are anti-aircraft phasers targeting us, Captain. Our shields are down to 45 percent."

Curses left the captains lips, taking over the shuttle manually. "Bet you wish you let Scotty install those canons now, don't you."

"I do not think now is the proper time to discuss this." The shuttle was hit again, snapping Jim's head violently forward. "Shields at 7 percent Captain. We cannot survive another hit."

"No shit Spock!" Jim took evasive actions, taking the shuttle into a dive, his mind working in overdrive. "Any chance you can find a blind spot Spock or possibly a range?"

"Negative captain, they are not appearing on the sensors."

"Of course they aren't." He muttered, turning a sharp left to avoid another shot. All he could really hope for was to get out of range.

Due to the limited detection, Jim had to rely on his eyesight to avoid the array of fire heading their way. So when he took that sharp left, he had not noticed the gun pointed right at them. He tried to pull up quickly, but it was no use. The gun got a fire off, hitting the bottom of a shuttle. The shield failed and the consequences were immediate. The phaser shots cut through the bottom of the hull , tearing the shuttle in half. Jim cursed, trying to ignore the cries of his security personal as they fell with the back of the ship. A few seconds later, it burst into flames because of the failing reactor that was located in that half of the shuttle. Not much steering could be done as the engines were gone, but he had done what he intended.

The front of the ship crashed into the lake, skidding over the top for a few yards before coming to the rest and starting to sink. Spock was the first one out of his seat as the water started rushing in, helping Uhura and McCoy out of their seats, disoriented from the landing. Jim was grateful for that. Despite the whiplash he was sure he had judging from the pain in his neck, he could focus on trying to salvage as much equipment as he could, but they were sinking fast, the compartment already filled with water. He could only grab two backpacks before Spock yanked him away, taking the backpacks from him.

Jim wanted to protest, but he favored saving his air as fighting Spock would only waste it. Jim glanced one more time at the shuttle which was sinking further and further into the darkness of the lake. Withholding a sigh, he swam to the surface, Spock following closely behind him.

Breaking the surface of the water, the captain wished he hadn't. The bottom half of the shuttle laid just 10 feet way from the water's edge, just a pile of burning rubble. If they had held out a few moments longer, they might have lived. "Captain, we should head for shore before someone locates our positions." Staring a while longer, he pulled himself away.

"Where are Bones and Uhura?"

"They already went ashore. I went back down to make sure you were still conscious." Spock informed him. "Are you injured Captain?"

"Not life threatening. I'll survive." Saying that, he had to hide the wince as he turned his head, swimming towards the shore. Uhura waded into the water to help him up which Jim accepted gratefully. "We need to move. We don't know if someone hostile will come to the crash site, and we need to regroup."

"Captain, the security team . . ." Uhura glanced at the wreckage. There was a hope hidden under the sadness, that the officers might be alive somewhere in the fiery debris.

Grief pulled at his heart, but he knew the chances of them surviving the explosion and the crash of that magnitude, and they couldn't afford to find a way across the lake to search not knowing if hostiles were after them. "They are gone, Lieutenant. There is nothing we can do for them." A comforting hand was placed on her small frame. "We have to keep moving."

Her eyes teared but she nodded turning to head up the hill. McCoy glanced at him before following her. Jim was about to follow them when Spock called out to him. "Captain." By the time Jim turned around Spock was already rushing back into the water. Confused, the others looked out into the dark waters. He could barely see it, the small glimpse of red opposite of their crash site.

Jim followed suit, throwing the backpacks to Bones, hurrying after Spock. It was a difficult swim, and Spock reached the crew member first; Jim was right on his heels to help the Ensign float. His head was bleeding and looked to be unconscious, but Ensign Pennington was alive. With their combined efforts, they were able to pull the young man onto the bank.

Bones was on him in a moment, assessing him for injuries for once without a tricorder. Did doctors even know how to asses people without those little pieces of equipment? The captain had never once seen McCoy without that specific piece of equipment in his hands. The worry was unneeded as the country doctor assessed the man quickly, checking the wound, then the pulse, and then the eyes. Never before had his faith in his CMO been so strong as Jim watched him work.

"Well Jim, looks like he took a bit of damage to his head. Besides a few bumps, bruises, and cuts, nothing seems to be broken. Until I get a working tricorder, I can't assess any internal damage until he shows signs of it. But from what I can see, the only thing we need to worry about is his head and possibly a little bit of water in his lungs from the sounds of his breathing."

"Can he be moved?" Jim glanced at Spock who was glancing around the wreckage. The tall, lithe body was crouched and stiff, searching for possible hostiles.

"Yeah, but he'll need a place to rest. He could easily slip into a coma the way he is right now."

"Captain, we should find shelter as soon as possible." Spock interrupted, his gaze fixed on a spot over the hill.

Jim followed his line of sight, seeing nothing yet still tense. "Let's follow the plan."

"But Captain," Uhura stood before her captain, determined. "The other two might be alive. We have to look for them. We almost left Ensign Pennington behind already."

Jim considered Uhura's request. Bones looked up at him expectantly obviously waiting for him to go along with Uhura's idea, and Spock was still keeping his eye on the horizon. If they went back to search, they would not be able to escape if they were attacked. They had no weapons. No means to defend themselves. With already one injured man, their pace was already going to be cut in half. What if they were still alive? He was their captain. They would expect him to come for them. He couldn't leave them behind. Pennington had survived. If Spock had not spotted him, the man would have drowned. Risk searching for his men who might already be dead, or ensure the safety of those still alive.

It wasn't a choice, he had to go look for the—

"The Captain initial command is correct." Spock took his spot just behind Jim's right shoulder. "We cannot waste time looking for them. I am 87.3096 percent sure that the anti-aircraft weapons that fired upon us on entry were manually controlled. If that is the case, they will be searching for us, and we are in no way prepared for any confrontation. The best course of action is to find shelter and regroup."

Every fiber of his being wanted to argue with Spock. He had been wrong initially. One of the security team had survived. If there was a chance the others were too, than he wanted to search. A quick look around, squashed the rebellion down though. Spock was right. They had to move forward and pray that if his security team was still alive that they could hold on until help arrived for them or tracked the rest of the landing party down, he couldn't risk the other's lives. If it was just his life that he was putting on the line, it would be another story to go look for them. As it was, if he went off to search by himself, it would be irresponsible. "You heard the Commander. Let's hurry. Spock, do you think you can carry Ensign Pennington?"

Spock had already moved to do so before he finished his sentence. A glance at his CMO's face told him that the man did not agree, but surprisingly for once, he kept his mouth shut and followed Uhura up the hill.

Spock looked at Jim expectantly, waiting for him to go on ahead so he could follow. Jim spared one more glance behind them before turning and following his CMO and communications officer. Spock was a step behind him, noticing movement heading towards the wreckage right as it went out of his sight.

+

Jim led their small landing party, looking for any places they could take shelter. With Spock's tricorder inoperable from their dip into the lake, they were stuck using their eyes to map the landscape. Two hours, they walked in their wet clothes, the cool breeze making the journey very uncomfortable. With the flat land, with only a few small hills and very little trees, there was no place to stay out of view for long. It only became worse when the sun began to set. The temperature was rapidly dropping. If the conditions continued, they would be forced to make camp in the open. It was almost a god send when some rock formations came into view. The rocks were large standing 12 feet tall and red in color. The cluster of rocks was close enough to hide them from view yet enough space to easily maneuver between them. Some of the rocks that were tilted toward one another would provide some shelter in addition to blocking the wind.

Uhura and Bones collected dry grasses and wood as they made their final stretch, so they would start a fire the moment they reached their destination. For that, Jim was grateful. It gave him a moment to take inventory of what he had saved from the Galileo. The backpack had been heavy, and it was a relief to set it down. At the moment, he was hoping that he saved at least some of the medical supplies. From the two back packs, there were two thermo blankets, two working stage one phaser, some rations, six bottles of water, one emergency medical kit, and finally a broken subspace communication device. It wasn't much and for five people, it wouldn't be enough.

He handed McCoy the emergency medical kit and the thermo blanket in attempt to keep the ensign warm. Judging by the series of expressions on Bones' face, the kit was barely adequate. Never the less, the dermal regenerator was pulled out to fix up the minor wounds along with one hypo for the pain.

He felt Spock's approach before even hearing him, so he didn't turn around once the Vulcan was behind him. "What do you think Spock, think you can fix it?" He raised the broken device.

Spock gingerly took it from his hands, inspecting it with a critical eye. "I am not sure Captain. I would have to disassemble the device to inspect which components are dysfunctional and which can be repaired. Tools designed for delicate work would also be beneficial."

"I don't know what to tell you Spock. We aren't exactly in a position to request those kinds of tools. You'll have to make do with what we have." Kirk flashed him his famous smirk, picking up an elongated rock with a sharp point. "There you go. Finest tool nature has to offer."

Spock raised an eye brow at him and, surprisingly, took the rock. "I suppose it would become an adequate stone knife with additional preparation."

Jim couldn't help but laugh. "Glad I could help."

"Jim," his first officer crouched beside him, keeping a few inches between them to ensure they wouldn't touch. "I wanted to apologize. I did not mean to offend you before."

"I thought you didn't believe in apologizes. Said something about them being illogical." If Spock didn't know better, it looked like a weight had been lifted from the captain's shoulders the way his eyes brightened and his smile grew.

"I just wanted to clarify that though it is true that I do not see you as a friend, you are . . ."

At the hesitation, Jim raised his hand to stop him right there. "I get it. I'm like a brother to you, right? And admitting it out loud that you feel something like that towards me would be un-Vulcan."

Spock's brow furrowed as he considered his next words carefully. That face was usually reserved McCoy and himself when trying to figure out an illogicial human saying one of them had used or when reconsidering his strategy to make them see something his way when logical reasoning wasn't working. "I admit I am a bit confused. If you understood what I meant, then why were you angry?"

"I didn't. Not until Bones mentioned it anyway." His smile faded and fatigue showed in the corners of his eyes. "Yeah, I was mad even though a part of me knew that you probably didn't mean it the way you did. I'm human. Sometimes my emotions influence my actions. But this," he waved his hand to indicate the entire situation they had found themselves in. "This made me remember it was petty. We're a good team Spock. You make me a good captain even if I don't take all of your suggestions."

"Brother is essentially correct as it is a translation of the Vulcan word," Spock finally said after some time. "And I do not make you a good captain, Jim. You have demonstrated many times that you make a great captain on your talents and merits alone."

"Why Spock, I think that is the sweetest thing anyone's every said to me." Jim laughed, missing the light green flush of his companion's cheeks at his words.

"Seriously though, I'll try not to emotionally compromise you. I know I get under your skin sometimes, but you're my friend. If you're having difficulties, I'll help you out. Even if it means shutting up for a moment or having some time to yourself, so you can get back under control, tell me. I enjoy hanging out with you. Bones is great and all, but I can only take so much before he drives me up a wall."

"I too find that I am not adverse to your company, Jim."

"Now that that's all settled," Jim grinned, slapping Spock's shoulder. "Let's get back to work, starting with how we should split up the rations."

The discussion went pretty quickly, deciding it was best to save the rations for tomorrow and eat half a pack. Each ration contained 4,000 Calories. Half a pack may not keep them feeling full, but it would supply the energy needed to get through the day.

They both agreed that he and Spock would head for the next settlement in the morning and scout out the situation to see if the conditions were similar to what they had stumbled across upon entering the planet's atmosphere. They would leave one phaser for Bones and Uhura to use to defend themselves, as the trip to the settlement would take a few hours to get there, and they would take the other.

Spock volunteered to take watch for the entire night. When Jim protested, he only received the argument about Vulcan's requiring a significantly less amount of rest than humans. It was an age old argument between them. One Jim could never win. Never the less he put up a fight until the day's events caught up with him. His neck was aching, his back was throbbing, and his body in general was sore and begging for sleep.

Finding a patch of dirt that didn't have too many pebbles in the way, he laid down, staring at the night sky above them. Somewhere up there, the Enterprise was waiting for his return, and he was going to make sure he and his landing party arrived safe and sound.

+

Spock and Jim left at sunrise. They had awakened McCoy so he could keep watch over the camp before they had left, each of them consuming their share of rations before doing so. Spock took the phaser, and Jim packed a water bottle and a few hypos.

They walked in a comfortable silence; too busy scouring the area around them looking for possible threats or stray colonists who might have shed light onto the situation. They ran into neither.

As they walked, the flat, open terrain became lusher. Trees appeared more often and bigger in size, the grass tall and healthy, but there were no animal life. The only sounds were the leaves and branches swaying in the wind and the soft crunch of the plant life under their boots.

The silence was killing Jim. It was too unnatural. The urge to talk to Spock and fill the silence was hard to keep under control. It seemed eerily familiar, the situation of walking in a forest with no life, no movement, around him.

He was about to relent to his desire to break the uncanny calm when he saw it. Just a hundred yards in front of him, the beautiful coloring of the forest with all its shades of blue, green, and violet, quickly turned into grey, almost petrified looking, husks of themselves, wilted and crumbling. A white fuzzy substance, its texture quite similar to moss, dusted the outside of the shells.

Jim stopped dead in his tracks at the sight ahead of him. His eyes were wide with fear and disbelief, his body trembling just slightly. His heart racing, and his palms sweating. He had been right. It was all familiar to him. He had seen this all before, and doubt crept into him his mind along with the fear. Doubt that he may not be able to bring his landing party through alive after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In light of some events I would like to remind commenters to please be aware of what you are writing. Hurtful comments about the author does hurt people. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but being rude and hurtful to the author and other reviewers is not the way to bring your point across. You don't know what an author is going through outside of writing. Calling them deranged, psychopaths, or insulting how they interpret characters of a story (example: Spock would never be broken because Vulcans have no emotions and would never let something get to him so I can't agree to you writing a broken Spock and you're an idiot for writing him like this (I find this to be quite inaccurate btw)). There are things the reboot changed that conflicts with TOS and some things has to be guessed on. Starting long hurtful debates is unnecessary. I don't mind criticism, but there is a difference between criticism and cynicism. I don't mind if you say you disagree with something but please be mindful of how you say it. If I see another great author run from the fandom with low self confidence and esteem because of nasty comments that has nothing to do with his/her amazing abilities then I'll be severely disappointed in the fans of this fandom.


	4. Why Jim?

_“Aunt Joanna, can you come outside for a minute?"_

_A beautiful woman in her late thirties emerged from a small, standard issued, colony farmhouse. She had beautiful long, brown hair, tanned skin, and lively green eyes. Jim always loved his aunt's eyes. The way she looked at him. They held mischief as well as a quiet intelligence and, most of all, love. Though his mother loved him, she was always off planet. He was lucky if she was home a few weeks out of the year, and when she was home, he was too busy with school, friends, or just staying away from the house to avoid his uncle. That soft warmth that she held in her eyes when she looked at him filled him with a pride and joy that he never knew he was capable of. The best thing about his aunt though was her personality. It was just as radiating as she was._

_When he had first met her, Jim came up with a brilliant idea. At this point in his life, Sam had left and Jim had reacted by acting up, badly. His once top of the school grades plummeted, he stop being courteous, and essentially stop being the golden child Sam had accused him of. He thought it would bring Sam back home in the beginning. That he could prove to Sam that he still needed his big brother. And it got worse as time went on: fights every day, skipping school, and eventually stealing._

_He was twelve, discovering girls, and hormones were coming into play and influencing his actions. His friends were low-lives and did not come up with the greatest of plans. He was aware of that even at his age. He even knew that hanging out with these kids would only hamper him later in life. After all, he was smart, a genius even, but he could not bring himself to care, not about the people he hurt or even for himself. Who would care if he smoked, or if he caused another kid to go to the hospital, or if he felt up a girl? His friends thought he was cool, and it made people stop thinking he was a chip off the old block. He hated hearing that the most, people comparing him to someone who he never met. It also gave him a chance to release all the pent up anger and hatred he stored up inside himself living in Frank's house, and it gave him an excuse for the bruises that he always had. So when he saw a beautiful woman walking down the sidewalk in the middle of Riverside at night, it was the perfect opportunity to get a few more laughs._

_He strolled by in a too big, worn out, brown leather jacket acting cool, his friends watching a little ways away. When he was close enough, his hand shot out to lift up her skirt. It was a harmless prank. The woman would yelp and try to slap him or go off crying or whatever. Worst case scenario, she would call the cops, but he'd be long gone by then._

_His fingertips barely brushed the fabric of the woman's miniskirt when he found himself staring up at the night sky a split second later. He hadn't even noticed he had been flipped onto his back until she leaned over him with a playful smile. "My, my, if it isn't my little nephew James Tiberius Kirk."_

_At the sound of laughing from his friends, Jim shot up, scrambling to get back onto his feet. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" He demanded. His chest puffed out and chin raised, glaring at this woman who had the nerve to actually make a fool out of him._

_Her response was a smack to the back of his head. She did that often, he soon came to find out. Anytime he was disrespectful or did something stupid, she would smack the back of his head. Hard enough to sting just a bit, but never hard enough to do any damage. It was more annoying than anything._

_He never did find out why she was in Riverside that night, nor did he care enough to put effort into finding out, but she did visit often afterwards. He didn't give her the time of day. She was his father's sister. He wanted nothing to do with his father. Not until Frank kicked him out of the house one night._

_That was nothing new. He was used to getting kicked out of the house. Frank would have him locked out for a few days if he was really pissed. Normally, he’d just find some place to crash temporarily. The school basement or, if it was warm, a spot by the lake underneath the big oak tree in the park, were his usual stomping grounds. He never relied on his friends for a place to crash. He never wanted them to find out his life outside of school and their outings. He didn’t trust them enough. This particular night however, he was sporting a high fever._

_He wandered for a bit, trying to focus on finding a place to stay. His fever made his thinking lethargic, and he kept losing his train of thought. He collapsed in the park, vaguely wondering if he was going to die there, thinking it was fitting to die alone as he spent most of his life alone._

_Somehow, and she never answered how no matter how many times he had asked, she found him. She picked him up and cared for him until he recovered even making excuses to Frank on where he was and what he was doing. Despite how rude he was to her in the past, she held no anger or annoyance toward him. She treated him as if he was her own, not taking any disrespect from him yet sitting through his fits of anger and hurtful words, letting it slide off her as if he had talked to her about the weather. That's when he discovered how kind and patient she really was. She knew that he needed to get it off his chest, and she sat and listened, and when he had tired himself out, feeling like crap and filled with self hatred and loneliness, she lent him a shoulder and gave him words of encouragement._

_Not long after the incident, he received an invitation to come with her to the colony she lived on. Frank was eager to get rid of him, and he was eager to get away, so he accepted. That was how he came to live with her._

_In the first year of his stay on Tarsus, he quickly figured out that the crap he pulled in Riverside would not fly here. Actions had consequences. If he failed a test, he would sit in remedial classes. If he picked up a cigarette, he would be forced to play janitor at the school. It was consequences he wasn't used to. He was used to hurtful words and fists. It was his surprise when he found that what he really took to heart was the look of hurt that was always present on his aunt’s face when he really screwed up. He was used to looks of disappointment, but seeing his aunt apologize to others and get scrutinized for his mistakes and being told she was failing as a guardian, that was the worst. The longer he stayed under her care, the more he wanted her to be proud of him._

_Six months after first moving in, she managed to pull out that hidden genius in him. She tricked him into taking a placement test by occasionally asking him questions, pretending it was work related. It took several months to get through the questions, but she managed to do what no one else had. In hindsight, he should have seen that coming, but he was happy she succeeded. She put him in more advanced classes, gave him engineering projects, and had him come to her work at the colony's laboratory. She was a famous biologist and highly respected. She constantly kept his mind from being idle._

_She not only taught him of science but also of character. She taught him how to treat a woman, how to control his anger, and how to better choose his fights. Yeah he was far from being perfect even after two years on Tarsus IV. He still got into fights and had trouble controlling his anger, but he no longer flipped skirts, smoked, stole, or outright disrespected authority. He suspected that by the time he became an adult, he would actually be a decent human being._

_Jim did not smile at her. Not this time. His brows were drawn together in worry as he showed her the dead birds that littered the ground by the crops.  
She stood beside him, taking in the sight, cool and collected as always. "What type of birds are these Jim?"_

_Annoyance crossed the teen's face. Normally he didn't mind her little quizzes, but he wasn’t in the mood at the moment. "Ravenburrow is what they have been dubbed. Native to the planet. They are scavengers eating both plants and remains of dead animals. They have unique immune systems that make them very resistant to disease. Studies on their immune systems are being conducted in hopes to find a way to improve humanoid ones."_

_"Very good, though I would have preferred the scientific name for an answer instead." Jim rolled his eyes. He answered it didn't he? He didn't even flinched when he felt the smack at the back of his head for the eye rolling. "What can you conclude from what you see?"_

_Jim hesitated but not because he did not know. It was the answer he was afraid of. "Judging by the fact that they are by the fields and are often annoying pests to the farmers, I'd say they were chowing down on the crops before they kicked the bucket. Since they rarely die from disease . . ." Jim stared at the premature crops. He approached, stopping just at the edge of the field. Small, barely visible white fuzzy particles on the leaves. "I'd say that the grain is highly toxic to humans if the Ravenburrow died so quickly."_

_Joanna nodded her agreement. Her features' darkening. "Yes, those are my thoughts exactly."_

+

No no no no no no. It was impossible for it to show up here. There were several solar systems away from Tarsus IV. There was no way for it to show up on this planet.

The sight of the petrified forest froze the young captain in his tracks, his eyes wide with disbelief and his palms were sweating while his hands shook. He could feel the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand and his heart race. He needed to breathe, but he couldn't force air into his lungs. Shit was he having another panic attack?

"Captain?" The word was said softly, barely above a whisper even, but it had Jim snapping his head to the side to look at his first officer, taking the slight crease in the Vulcan's brow and concern hidden in his eyes.

The fear that had rapidly taken hold of the captain slowly began to ease, just enough for him to reply with a slight smirk on his face. "I'm alright Spock. Just taken by surprise." It was surprising how calm and collected he sounded considering the clashing emotions inside him. If he hadn't known better, he might have believed himself.

Spock didn't look so convinced however. Jim should have expected that. Spock always seemed to see right through him, but he did not press much to Jim’s relief. Instead, he studied the plant life before him with detached interest.

"Spock , we should go around." He couldn't stop the slight waver in his voice caused by his nerves when the commander took a step closer.

"In a moment, Captain. I would like to take a sample in case we have a chance to analyze the specimen in the future." Spock had reached up to scrape a small sample of the fuzzy white moss into a small test tube which was most likely retrieved from the small satchel he carried when on scientific missions that normally carried his tricorder and other scientific equipment.

"Don't!" Jims hand shot out to slap the Vulcan's hand away, voice filled with panic.

Spock pulled his hand away, but his eyebrows had disappeared under his bangs in surprise at the outburst. "Captain? Is something troubling you?"

"We need to find a river to wash our clothes," Jim tried to hide the panic. His façade was failing, and there was no way Spock had missed the desperation in his voice this time, but safety came first. Spock didn't know what he could have done by nearing that plant. He couldn't have known. Tarsus IV was classified. Only admirals and specific government officials could read about the disaster. The only thing that the public was informed of was the massacre that happened. The nitty gritty details were tightly under wraps and those were the details that really mattered.

"Captain, if you have concluded that I was going to come into contact with the substance directly, that was not my intention."

"Just . . . trust me alright. Do not touch it, and do not go near it."

Spock opened his mouth as if he wanted to argue the matter. Something on Jim's face must have made him reconsider. The Vulcan nodded, responding, “As you wish, Captain. If my data is correct, there should be a creek away from the contaminated area 400 yards east."

The only answer Spock received was a curt nod. Jim turned on his foot heading east, being extremely careful of where he stepped and how far away the contamination was relative to their position.  
Spock watched him with a critical eye. His normally brash captain had made a quick transformation before his eyes. In fact, it was so fast it seemed as if two sides of his captain was struggling for control. On the outside, Jim was trying to be normal, but his captain was failing. He had spotted the fear in his eyes, heard the trembling in his voice and his quickened pulse, and the stiffness of his movements. If he had to make a hypothesis, he would say that for 14.89 seconds, Jim had displayed the early symptoms of an anxiety attack when they had first come in contact with the diseased forest. Jim seemed to snap out of it when Spock had called out to him however, so the Vulcan was about to sum up the odd behavior under the complex human conduct he did not quite grasp. That was when Jim started showing inconsistencies.

Spock was well aware that Jim knew what they had stumbled upon. The initial reaction was enough to support that theory. That was also how Spock knew that it was very probable that it was a large variable of the current situation to cause such a reaction in Jim. It was more than surprise, it was fear. When the initial fear faded behind Jim’s bravado and reassuring smirk, Spock was curious, but he also sensed the captain was not quite ready to talk about it. The quiet pleading in his eyes curved his curiosity and questions. Jim was trying to act normal, but the Vulcan had seen the way Jim's eyes darkened before his façade was in place. With what emotion, he could not tell, but it wasn't an emotion his friend had shown before.

What really drew the Vulcan's attention was what Jim did after they were on their way. The human's outburst had cleared any doubt that he was indeed hiding something, but the Vulcan was not going to question it, yet. Humans seemed fond of their secrets. Some kept more than others, and the captain seemed to have quite a few of them, but he wasn't going to pry until his captain had truly regained his calm, so he quietly observed Jim as the human lead the way.

Jim's footsteps were quiet even to his sensitive ears, and it wasn’t a conscious effort either. His attention was too focused on his surroundings, keeping a specific distance away from the crumbling part of the forest. He never wandered any closer than 20 ft. For his brash and often reckless captain, it was very out of character.

As they continued on, Spock also noticed the increasing tension in the human’s broad shoulders and the quiet murmurings to himself. He couldn’t quite make out what the captain was saying, but it was concerning none the less. Jim tended to keep his thoughts to himself unless he was complaining about the admirals.

Jim caught sight of the creek first, picking up his pace, but still as silent as he had been previously, simultaneously stripping off his clothes. Spock stared longer than he needed too before quietly copying his captain, taking in the way he washed his clothes. The shirt was carefully kept from the inside touching the outside and washed by rubbing it on the rocks as the water flowed over it. The ease his captain completed the task again insinuated that he had come into contact with whatever they had run across before. 

Spock was quietly calculating how to broach the subject when Jim was the first to speak. “I know you have a lot of questions for me.” Jim’s voice was quiet and detached, comparable to when Jim talked to anyone about his death in the warp core. 

The unpleasant memory tugged at his buried emotions and forced him to focus on his task and keep his eyes off the man before him. “Only two specific questions, Captain. One of which is how to create a properly working subspace communication device using only stone knives and bearskins.”

Jim chuckled at Spock’s attempt at humor. He must have looked like shit if Spock was cracking jokes. “You know, I have the strangest feeling of déjà vu that you said something like that before.”  
Spock raised an eyebrow clearly stating that was highly improbable. 

Jim’s amusement died down and his eyes traveled down to his hands, still clutching his shirt and under the cool water. The water was a beautiful crystal green, comparable to Earth’s crystal blue waters in the Caribbean. It reminded him how beautiful this planet used to before the scorched earth and dying flora. “I know I need to tell you what I know, but I’m not ready. Still trying to get my head wrapped around the situation and weed out the important details.” Jim met his first officer’s eyes with a forced smile that made Jim look paler than he was. His eyes were beseeching. “Just give me a few hours. I’ll tell you then. Just . . . don’t pry until then, and trust me when I tell you to do something.”

“Jim.” He paused for a moment to take in the captain’s reaction to his name. Spock had said his name softly and calming, yet Jim braced himself. His chest puffed out just slightly in rebellion, waiting for Spock to try to change his mind. “You are my captain and my friend. I will await for when you are more comfortable on the topic. I will not pry, but if I feel that the crew is at risk or the information becomes too pertinent to our survival─”

“I won’t hesitate to tell you.” Tension drained from the human’s shoulders. “Should we wait for our clothes to dry or continue on?”

“As the others will be awaiting our return by nightfall, we should continue on if we are to keep to the schedule.”

There was a small voice inside Jim’s head that was whispering things, things that he had tried to forget for a long time, but Jim shoved it them back. This was not Tarsus. Things were different here. Old habits may not apply here. Jim put his pants on, but kept his shirt off so it could dry as they walked. Spock did the same, though he kept his black undershirt on as well. 

The rules Jim gave him were simple. Do not wonder closer than twenty feet to anything that looked infected with the white fuzzy moss, and if any symptoms of sickness appear, tell him immediately. Just that little amount of information gave Spock a few hypotheses on they were dealing with. 

The apprehension that surrounded Jim was significantly less than before though it hadn’t dissipated completely. Jim couldn’t help but smile a bit to himself mentally. Spock’s easy acceptance of Jim’s secrecy was a blessing. It gave him time to collect himself and decide exactly what he was going to say about his past. It was true that he trusted his crew, but he couldn’t trust them to look at him the same if they knew who he really was, deep down inside.

Feeling the intense brown eyes of his first officer on his back, he forced himself to keep his cool. Out of everyone, he couldn’t let Spock know his secret. Instinctively he clenched his fists. Spock must never know.

As they neared the settlement, the smell of rotting corpses hit their noses. Jim used his shirt to cover his nose, but Spock did no such thing. Could Vulcan’s turn off their sense of smell? Jim decided yes because the smell was enough to make him nauseous yet Spock seemed unaffected. Still, the captain had to steady his nerves at the sight of the village. Corpses littered the street, partially eaten or decayed. The settlement itself, containing one story houses that were standard models used in most Terran colonies, and a few two level buildings set aside for scientific research, were deserted.

“What do you think Spock? Hear anyone nearby?” Jim kept his voice low and surprisingly steady, considering the scene before him. 

“I do not hear anyone. I do not believe we will find a colonist who will assist in clarifying the situation.”

The human nodded in agreement. “But we need supplies. We can scavenge for some while we’re here.”

“Stealing Captain?” A laugh escaped him before Jim could help it. Spock had sounded so affronted at the thought.

"I prefer to think of it as salvaging. Besides, I have a feeling there won't be much left once we get there." While the first half of the statement was cheerful with a slight twinkle in Jim's eyes, the second half was said with under his breath, not meant for anyone else to hear. "We'll keep low and out of sight just in case."

Spock fell in line behind Kirk, following him along the outskirts of the colony. Kirk trusted his first officer to keep an ear out for anyone nearby, so he stayed in the shadows of the buildings and kept his focus on trying to keep his growing unease under control. The entire scene was like someone pressed replay in his memories. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breath. Spock was right behind him; he had to keep it together. “Spo─” his voice cracked, forcing him to clear it as quietly as he could. “Spock, let’s start with the medical facility first then hit the houses one by one heading outward to the edge,” he kept his voice low and just loud enough for Vulcan ears to pick up. He felt the silent confirmation from his first officer. He didn’t move immediately, and he knew the hesitation would pique Spock’s interest. He had to move. He forced that step forward, shoving all his emotions and thoughts to the back of his mind. 

Jim stepped over a body, hidden partially by an overturned hover bike. He felt bile rise up in the back of his throat. He had caught a glimpse of the body and had regretted it instantly. A part of him was relieved that the man’s face was obscured by the bike. It would either prove or disprove what he was trying not to admit to himself. 

Spock however did stop to take a good look at the body. He stared at Jim’s back. When the human made no attempts to stop, Spock followed, sparing another glance at the corpse. He promised not to ask, but it was becoming increasingly challenging as time continued.

They entered the medical facility through the back door. They thought they would have had to pry open the door, using the phaser to melt the lock. It turned out that it was unneeded. The door was unable to close due to a single pen, jammed into hinge, keeping the door open just enough so it wouldn’t lock. From far away however, the door looked closed. A quick escape and entrance if everyone assumed it was locked.

Jim halted, his entire body on alert. He spared a glance at Spock, but the Vulcan didn’t hint that anything was amiss. Still, he was only determined to rely on Spock’s superior senses so much. There were always ways to get around them if someone knew what they were doing. Jim was one of those people. There were likely to be others.

Jim pulled the door open, so there was a small crack. Thankfully, the hinge didn’t squeak to give them away. He listened carefully, reassuring himself that there was no one waiting nearby. His hand with the phaser went first, then the rest of his body. The power was turned off making it difficult to see with the lack of windows in this part of the building. He entered, feeling along the wall to find his way, progressing slowly. 

From the little natural light that entered through the few windows and a large variety of cracks in the wall, Jim deduced they were in a corridor leading to the emergency care center. The walls themselves were intact though little could be said about the rest of the facility. Everything was trashed. Papers were scattered throughout the halls, some stained with blood, phaser burns scorched the floor and walls, furniture was overturned, and desks, file cabinets and bags were ransacked. 

“Have an idea where the pharmacy would be?” Jim asked Spock. He carefully picked up a large sturdy bag from one of the corpses, carefully removing the death grip the woman had on it. “Rigor mortis. She died recently.”

“Judging by the progression of the rigor mortis, I would estimate her death to be approximately 12 hours ago,” Spock kneeled beside the woman, lifting her head to access the damage. “Cause of death is severe trauma to the back of the head.”

“I agree. We should hurry to get what we need and get out of town.” Jim took a quick look in the ugly brown bag, and noted with relief that there were already supplies. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like she reached the pharmacy. “Let’s hurry.”

Jim moved to shoulder the bad, but Spock took it from him first. “Our destination should be up ahead to the right. I advise caution. The killer may still be nearby.”  
Since Spock made no comment about taking the bag, Jim decided to leave it alone. His shoulder and neck were very tender from the crash yesterday, and the journey to the settlement had made both stiff and uncomfortable.

Spock took the lead that time. Jim kept his gaze straight forward trying not to look at anything else. He was getting nauseous again. He needed to get out of this town, but again it had to wait. Sure they found a bag full of provisions, but the medicine could prove very invaluable in worst case scenario. If they could find a tricorder for Bones, they could truly treat Ensign Pennington and any future problems they might run into until the Enterprise picked them up. They already missed their first check in. If they missed one more, the Enterprise was supposed to investigate. With the defensive shields still active, more shuttles will be forced to land. Would those shuttles get wiped out too? 

“Jim, we have arrived.”

The announcement regained Jim’s attention. Breaking into the room was a piece of cake. He had a lot of practice at breaking in and out of places since joining Starfleet. Huh, wasn’t that ironic.  
Jim managed to override the lock, but it took Spock’s strength to pry open the automatic door. It was a promising sign that the pharmacy might not have been ransacked like the rest of the place.  
Jim’s heart sank seeing the trashed room. The likelihood that there were any medical supplies that could be useful to them were slim. 

Both men separated to search through the remaining hypos and packages that were left. Jim was on his last row of shelves when he found several bottles of painkillers and penicillin stashed between the last shelf and the floor. “Spock, I found somethi─” A sharp pain pierced the back of his head. He fell forward, gripping the steel shelves. His vision blacked for only a second, but he managed to move instinctively to avoid another blow to his head. The weapon instead made contact with his recovering shoulder. Jim fell that time, grunting in pain. Even as his assailant approached him again, he couldn’t help but worry about where Spock was? Was he taken by surprise too?

The person shrouded in a dark green cloak, raised the pipe above his head about to strike. He was disoriented and having trouble getting back onto his feet.

Just when Jim thought he was going to be put down for good, a pale hand wrapped around the attacker’s wrist and gracefully flipped the person onto their back. A surprisingly feminine grunt escaped the unknown person. The pipe dropped to the ground with a loud clang, and Spock stood over her with the same neutral expression though his eyes looked angry. “I suggest you stay where you are if you do not wish for more physical harm to you. Any attempts of escape will only prove futile from this point on.” Spock’s voice was completely devoid of emotion. Anytime Spock locked his emotions away behind a wall, presenting a true Vulcan front, Kirk knew he was pissed. 

“Spock, are you okay?” Jim managed to sit up, gripping the side of his head. He felt a sticky wetness between his fingers, but it did not seem that he had sustained major damage besides a bit of tenderness, some broken skin, and a large lump that was forming there. He was lucky. It seemed she was aiming for unconsciousness and not the kill.

“I am quite well Captain. I was lured away by the sight of a promising find. I was then attacked by my own assailant.” Spock looked over to his right where a small boy rested in a sitting position unconscious. 

“What did you do to him you bastard!” the cloaked figure yelled, pulling a knife from the sleeve. The hood fell as the human scurried onto her feet, only to have Spock grab and twist her aim behind her uncomfortable, threatening to break if she moved, and had her face down on the floor while simultaneously disarming her.

“You have got to teach me how you do that,” Kirk muttered, standing up himself. He made it look so easy and effortless.

“I could try to teach you Captain, but the V’asumi was designed for Vulcan speed and strength.” Spock replied. The hard edges eased from the Vulcan’s face, yet his full attention was still on their captive.

“Why do I feel that is another slight against human’s Spock?” Kirk teased. Finally regaining his sense of balance, he cautiously picked up the knife the woman had dropped. 

“If you wish to learn, I attempt to teach it to you; however I do believe it will be more prudent to take care of the current situation first.”

Kirk nodded, sobering up. He grimaced at the woman’s appearance. Not because she was disfigured or appalling in some way. No, she was quite beautiful. It was the ghosts of his past that clung to the woman and the child. The woman’s cold hard eyes, the child’s mature yet haunted expression, their malnutritioned forms, the scars and injuries they carried, it was all familiar too him. And when they stared at him, he felt like he was caught in the headlights with a hundred angry and accusing eyes staring at him.

Jim violently turned his back to them. “Let’s take this someplace with a bit more light. Then we’ll talk.”

They let the woman go to the boy. He looked to be around 10 years of age. The woman held him in her arms protectively with hatred radiating off her aimed at them.  
Why did you watch? Why did you let her die? 

Jim shook his head violently. There was nothing he could do back then, he reminded himself. Even as Spock made them stand and held them at phaser point, Jim could still feel her intense gaze as if she saw right through him, like she knew. 

“Captain, are you ready?”

Jim muttered a yeah, following Spock as he led their attackers out.


	5. In the Beggining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for waiting so long. I was having trouble getting past a certain point in the story and debating something. Strangely out of my three stories, this one has the least complicated plot yet I have the most difficulty writing this one. Huh, irony.

_Jim looked at the brown bag of rations, his stomach rumbling at the sight of it. It had been almost a month since their little discovery in the fields. Almost three weeks since they discovered that almost all the crops were infected. Eighteen days since rations were given out to the public and the colony was put into a state of emergency. And four days since Jim had begged his aunt to allow him to help look for a way to counter the fungus and try to save any crop that wasn’t already turned into a husk. His aunt had refused and encouraged him to instead help scavenge the forest for food with the other children and elderly._

_Jim’s stomach rumbled again. Even though the rations provided all the nutrients and calories that he needed, it still left him feeling hungry. The rations themselves tasted like dry, stale bread, leaving a feeling of longing for even replicated food. He didn’t dare complain though. Not like the younger children. The adults kept the situation somewhat a secret from the kids. Jim almost wished he was ignorant to the situation as well. He knew that food was running out faster than they planned. He wasn’t sure exactly how quickly they were going through the supplies, but he could see the worry on the adults’ faces._

_He heard the automatic front door slide open, signaling his aunt’s return. The beautiful woman he had come to know and love like a mother looked worn down and tired. She had lost too much weight over the month which worried him, and there seemed to be permanent dark circles under her eyes._

_“Your ration’s on the table.” Jim mumbled, munching on the flat bread like substance, taking careful care not to let even a crumb drop._

_“Don’t worry about me Jim. I received my daily ration at the lab.” Joanna smiled weakly, taking a seat at the kitchen table._

_The teen stared at her intensely, but her soft smile never faded. With a brief look of longing directed at his food, he broke the ration in two, handing over the bigger piece to her._

_“Jim, it’s alright. You should eat it,” she insisted, but her brown eyes betrayed her when they glanced at the food, causing her stomach to growl loudly. She blushed in embarrassment. “Really, I’m fine.”_

_“I have a stomach ache,” Jim muttered, placing the food onto the packaging and pushing it towards her. “We can’t waste food, so you might as well take it.”_

_Her eyes widened in surprise then glanced at the small portion in front of her, her eyes watering. “Thank you.” She ate the piece quickly, not glancing at her nephew the entire time, guilt and shame shadowing her for giving in._

_“So where’s Robert? I haven’t seen the jerk for a while.” Jim meant to cheer her up. Robert was his aunt’s fiancé for the past year. Overall he was a decent man. He worked for security. Jim always joked that he wasn’t good enough for Joanna. She was a genius (must have run in the genes) and essentially he was just the muscle, but he was very sweet and made her happy, so Jim accepted him on the condition that he was allowed to torture the man in his own way. Jim was never too fond of father figures. After all, his own biological father died at his birth and his uncle, the only other male role model in his life was an abusive bastard, but Robert never once tried to pretend to be his father nor did he try to control him just because he was dating his aunt. In return Jim kept his pranks and bad behavior to a minimum, and the older man had taught him some fighting moves, much to his aunt’s disapproval._

_At the mention of Robert’s name, Joanna seemed to shut down. Having finished her meager meal, she could only fold her hands and keep her gaze on the salt shaker on the table. “The governor called him and the other guards yesterday. About half of the colonists including us have been called to the recreation center today.”_

_A bad feeling twisted in Jim’s gut, but he only grinned. “Guess they’re handing out the second round of rations. About fucking time.”_

_There was worry in her expression when she looked at him. Her warm eyes clouded with something Jim could not guess. Before he could ask what was wrong, she stood up. “It’s almost time for it to start. Let’s go.”_

_Jim nodded, cleaning up the wrapper and crumbs, disposing of them quickly. She watched him, keeping seated until the last minute._

_Together they left their home. It wasn’t a far trip. Their house was close to the center of the colony where the labs and recreational center was located. The rec center sometimes served as an emergency shelter and as well as a town hall if the situation called for it. It was also the place where they received their rations after a state of emergency had been issued._

_Jim looked around, noticing looks of relief on the adults’ face. He could not blame them if it turned out they were getting more rations or even a piece of good news. Maybe Starfleet got their distress call and were coming to their aid. The thought even brought a smile to his face despite his usually pessimistic attitude._

_His smile faded when he walked into the gymnasium of the recreational center. The gym was bigger than the average sized gym on Terra. It was large enough to fit 500 people with a bit of elbow room to spare if the bleachers were pushed back into the wall. If the second floor that overlooked the basketball court was used as well, the number could easily double. It was the perfect place to take shelter. The center was equipped with medical equipment and cots stored in the basement, and the building itself was sturdy and built to take a lot of punishment._

_Up until the moment the teen walked into the room, Jim always found the rec center a place of safety. He had taken shelter here once during a particularly bad snow storm. After the power was lost to his aunt’s home and the window broke from the hail storm, both he and Joanna had spent a week huddled in this very gym, but now, something was making his hair stand on end. He noticed the guards standing on the second level, armed and looking over the railing at the colonists filing in. Other guards were blocking the exits on the main floor. No one around him seemed to notice except for Joanna who pulled him closer. Jim resisted the urge to push her away and quietly waited for the meeting to start._

_The room went silent as the view screen lowered. It was then Jim noticed, when he tried to move to get a better look at the view screen, that there was way too many people crowded into the room. There had to be at least 600. That many people crowded together was never a good thing. Instinctively, Jim moved in front of Joanna to keep the jostling to a minimum as they were towards the back. They were only a few feet from the guard who blocked that entrance._

_“Thank you all for answering your summons.” The low booming voice reclaimed Jim’s attention to the screen. A middle aged man with a receding hairline and an out of date goatee greeted them with a stern expression. Jim had never seen him before, but the voice was very familiar. “I am sure you are anxious to know the reason as to why you have been brought here. First I would like to thank all of you for your time and dedication to our cause. The countless sacrifices each of you had to make to make our dream a reality. For the past six years, you have toiled away, sharing joy, pain, failure, and success and supported each other to achieve our common goal.”_

_Jim’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. What the hell was this guy talking about? He didn’t have time to question. Joanna grabbed his upper arm tightly, pulling him back towards the door. Her face was in pure panic. That alone was enough for Jim to hold in his questions for later and just follow. He pushed some people out of the way heading towards the door only to be stopped by the guard. It was then it dawned on the teen as to why the guards had seemed more menacing that day. Instead of holding a normal type 2 phaser pistol, they all were carrying heavy duty phaser rifles. He hesitated as the guard pointed it at them, telling them to step back._

_“The revolution is successful. But survival depends on drastic measures.” Jim’s attention was divided between the speech and the gun pointed at him. He felt a sinking feeling in his gut. This couldn’t be going where he thought it was going. “Your continued existence represents a threat to the well-being of society.” Joanna didn’t hesitate. While the gun was pointed at her nephew she shortened the distance between herself and the guard from feet to mere inches. The man turned to point the gun at her, but she was already too close. Using her left hand, she pushed the muzzle away from herself while simultaneously stepping into the man’s personal space with her right foot. With her left foot she brought it up only to slam her heel down onto the man’s right knee with all her might while her right hand hit his windpipe with deadly accuracy._

_Jim watched in a stunned silence as he watched the woman take out the burly man in only two seconds. “Your lives mean slow death to the more valued members of the colony.” None of the other colonists had paid attention to the swift attack. Their attention on the screen as realization was dawning to the rest of the colonists. Panic started to fill the room._

_Joanna reached forward to grab the key card to unlock the door they had came through, but the man wasn’t having it. He grabbed her arm, and aimed the rifle at her head. The sound of the phaser went off._

_Jim watched in horror as the guard fell and his aunt stood over him with both the key card and phaser pistol she had retrieved from the man’s belt. He was too stunned to move, his eyes wide. This wasn’t happening. “Therefore, I have no alternative but to sentence you to death.” She grabbed his hand and yanked him forward. “Your_ _execution i_ _s so ordered,” Jim faintly heard the guards lift their weapons. “Signed Kodos, Governor of Tarsus IV._ _" Jim had just gone through the opened door when he heard the first shots go off._

* * *

 

Jim took a seat on a fallen tree, sighing. Their two captives were seated on the soft forest ground in front of him, the woman holding the young boy in her arms. Spock stood beside Jim, phaser still pointed at them. They had decided to take this discussion to the outskirts of the colony.

“Andrea,” the child whispered unaware that both Spock and Jim could hear him. “I’m scared.”

The woman didn’t answer him, but her thin arms wrapped around his small frame tightly, offering him silent comfort.

Jim watched them for a moment. “Spock,” he said quietly, placing his hand briefly on his first officer’s elbow. “Lower the phaser. They’re no longer a threat the way they are now.”

Spock hesitated. Jim could practically see the wheels turning in his head on whether he should argue the matter with him or not. Slowly, the Vulcan lowered the weapon, but his eyes were still focused on the woman. “How is your head, Captain?”

“Got one hell of a headache, and I’m a bit dizzy, but I should live.” Jim didn’t dare say more. He didn’t mention that his vision blurred when he moved too fast or that he was finding it difficult to walk in a straight line. He was well aware he had a concussion. Even so, he would manage the trek back to their camp with it on his own. He had learned at a young age how to push himself and ignore the pain. The experience had kept him alive until now. It did not mean that Spock needed to know though. He needed the Vulcan to stay focused instead of worrying about him. Not that Spock would ever admit that he was worried since that would be admitting that he had human emotions.

A brief memory of Spock on his knees with his hand pressed against the glass and a tear rolling down his face crossed his thoughts. No, he wouldn’t worry Spock over something so trivial. There was nothing that could be done about his present condition, so there was no point in bringing it up.

Kirk closed his eyes as the sun emerged from behind the clouds, turning his headache into a migraine. He could only grind his teeth and resist the urge to use one of the hypos they had found. “Alright,” he began in a soft voice as to not scare the survivors but still firm enough to let them know he wasn’t a push over. “I am Captain Kirk, and this is my first officer, Commander Spock. I am going to pretend you did not attempt to kill or assault Starfleet officers and start with a clean slate.” He gave them an easy grin. “What are your names?”

The woman eyed him with mistrustful eyes. The young boy on the other hand scrambled out of her lap to look at Jim with wide eyes. “Are you really from Starfleet? Did you come to save us?” At Jim’s nod, a large smile crossed the boys face. “See that? I told you they’d come!” he said to the woman who only closed her eyes briefly and nodded in response.

“My name’s Lucius, but I like being called Luca more. That’s Andrea.”

“Luca, you talk too much,” The woman spoke for the first time since the pharmacy in a stern voice.

At the woman’s words, Luca’s suddenly bright and joyous personality faded, reigning in his emotions.

“Look, you can say you’re with Starfleet all you want, but I’m calling bullshit on both of you. I’ll give it to you that I’ve never seen you at the colony before, but you were scavenging just like us. That either means you aren’t with Starfleet or that something happened in which you need more supplies. Either way, you can’t help us.” Andrea’s voice was cold and her eyes piercing and ruthless. They would have to be careful around her. Jim recognized those eyes all too well.

Jim decided to settle looking at Spock who had yet to say a word. “What do you think Spock?

“I recommend that we escort them back to our camp, Captain. If we release them, there is a high possibility that they will attack and steal from others.”

Kirk nodded absentmindedly, regretting it instantly when his head began to pound. “I agree,” He ground out through gritted teeth. The action drew Spock’s attention for a moment then went back to watching the duo. “Before we do all that, mind telling us what happened on this planet?”

Spock and Jim waited patiently while Andrea thought it over. “If you share some of your food, I will tell you what I can.”

“Done,” he didn’t even hesitate to agree. “But we’d still like you to accompany us back to our camp. You have our word that you will be sa─”

“You’re word means nothing.” She spat. “Not here, but I will go with you for the food.”

Kirk sighed, rubbing his temples absent mindedly to try to ease his migraine. “Start your story wherever you like.”

The woman was quiet for some time, and Jim couldn’t say he wasn’t grateful for the moment of silence. Now if he could just somehow turn off the sun. The light was killing him.

“It started two months ago. The transport ship had brought supplies and a 100 more colonists to the colony.” The woman sighed, running fingers through her matted hair until her fingers got caught. She grimaced, removing her hand and placing it on her leg. “Something wasn’t right. No one ever beamed down to ask how the experiments were going or how the colony in itself was doing. It never seemed weird to me at the time. I had some experiments in some pretty crucial stages. A week later we found half the crops infected with a strain of fungus we had never seen before. Soon after that, we found out any ration exposed to the air for a given amount of time would get infected as well. We lost a lot of food because of that.”

The kid curled up during her tale, resting his head on his knees. She rubbed his back. “The colonist turned onto the natives first. Fear is a funny emotion, can cause paranoia if it gets out of control.” She laughed humorlessly. “They came up with the craziest idea that they had something to do with it.” Her laugh turned into a bitter smile. “And I was one of them. I’ll be surprised if any of the natives are still alive.

“Of course, as it turned out, they were worse off than we were. No food there. In fact, it only made our situation worse. The natives may not have been as technologically advanced as we were, but they did manage to destroy any available food and resource they had before we killed them.”

“May I inquire as to why the replicators were not an option to acquire more food?” Spock asked. He chanced a glance at Jim. He had been unnaturally quiet the entire time.

“Don’t you think we could have done that if we could have?“ Was the snapped reply. “An ion storm by the planet 2 weeks before the transport ship arrived. While it only interfered with some equipment, it acted like an electromagnetic pulse to very simple electronics. Namely, simple communicators and basic replicators. Without parts to replace the ones that got fried they were useless.”

“After attacking the natives, the colonist turned on each other. After that, well, look around. Not much left.”

Jim stayed quiet. When Spock looked at him again, he looked like he had completely shut down, unaware of his surroundings and locked inside his own thoughts. “Captain, we should get moving if we wish to arrive before sundown and before Doctor McCoy sends either the Lieutenant or himself to search for us.”

The blond man didn’t show any signs of hearing him. After a moment, he stood up and started to head the direction they came. Spock urged the survivors forward, waiting for them to follow after Jim, letting him take the rear. He didn’t show it of course, but the Vulcan was quite worried about the sudden quiet and subdued behavior of his Captain. He was under no illusion that Jim was most likely suffering from a migraine by the way Jim occasionally rubbed his temples with pain in the corners of his eyes. He could only hypothesize what Jim wasn’t showing the extent of the actual damage he had taken before he had restrained the woman. That was why Spock divided his attention to both Jim and the woman as they made their long trek back to the camp.

The temperature was dropping quickly as the day wore on, making way for night. Jim gave his yellow command shirt to the kid the moment the young boy started to shiver and the tips of his small round ears turned bright red from the cold. The child smiled shyly when he took the shirt and Jim grinned back ruffling the kid’s brown locks, but it did not reach his eyes, still emotionally closed off to the world. When his blue eyes turned to Spock, he frowned. Spock had put back on his blue shirt, though it was still damp, and while he was not shivering, his cheeks and ears were tinged green and his body was unnatural stiff.

Jim took off his black shirt, exposing his skin to the cool wind. Even with the fading sunlight, Spock could see the dark discoloration of the skin where he had been struck by the metal pipe earlier that day and the faint scars that the spear and phaser had left only four days prior. Without any hesitation, though goosebumps were already beginning to show on his arms, Jim extended the thermal shirt to Spock. “Take it.”

“I am well, Jim,” he said quietly. He glanced at Andrea and Luca. “You need to stay warm as well.”

“Spock,” Jim said gently, and for a moment, he sounded small and insecure. When he spoke again, the vulnerability was gone, but he also seemed to have closed off again. He took Spock’s hand, ignoring the small tingling that shot through his fingers as he did so, and put the shirt in his hand. “Take the shirt. Keep warm.”

Slender finger tips curled around the fabric, taking in the warmth that still lingered. “Thank you, Jim.” Spock handed the phaser to Jim, so he could put on the additional layer. Jim took the lead once again after Spock had settled and taken the phaser back.

They weren’t surprised to see McCoy passing outside the stone formations, muttering to himself until he saw their approach. Neither senior officer had a chance to even open their mouths to call out before their ears were assaulted with a loud southern accent. “WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOUR SHOULDER! I JUST HAD THAT PATCHED UP BEFORE WE LEFT THE GODDAMNED SHIP!” Jim winced at the volume of the voice. Apparently, his migraine had not decided to leave during their three and a half hour journey back. “And what the hell happened to your shirt this time?”

“Perhaps this conversation can wait until the survivors have warmed themselves around the fire and receive nourishment, Doctor.”

McCoy looked at Spock before his eyes settled on the two new comers. “Well don’t just stand there you irritating hobgoblin, get them around the fire and give them some rations. And you!” McCoy looked at Jim pointedly. “Get one of the spare blankets and warm up before you catch hypothermia. I’ll see what I can do about that damn shoulder.”

“Attend to the survivors first. Spock will tell you about the trip while you’re doing that.” Jim leaned against one of the large red rocks. Strangely, the rocks felt warm against the skin of his back, and he couldn’t stop a sigh from escaping.

“The moment I’m finished with them, I’ll be back to fix you up.” McCoy had lost the anger in his voice seeing Jim’s distress. “Make sure you get something to eat before then, alright Jimbo?”

A groan escaped him. “Please don’t call me that. It makes you sound like your 50.”

“I can call you whatever I like. I’m the one keeping you alive.” The older man smirked, before making his way back to the center of the rock formation.

Jim waited outside, staring up at the darkening sky. Even with the unfamiliar constellations, it put him at ease. The feeling was similar to whenever he was a child and had escaped onto the barn roof to stare at the stars. No matter the problem, it would just melt away when he would look at them. Even living his life among them on the _Enterprise_ had done nothing to lose their appeal to him. In fact, he was sure they had become more mysterious, more magical than they were back then. He lowered himself down to the ground.

He must have zoned out, because he was greeted with McCoy’s worried face and a flashlight shining in his eyes. “Shit,” Jim muttered, waving his arms lazily, trying to swat McCoy’s hand away.

“Dammit Jim, why didn’t you tell me you have a head injury?”

Jim just slurred something in response.

“You have a concussion, Jim. Hey, look at me, Kid.” McCoy tilted his head up. “Have you been feeling nauseous? Any vomiting? Dizziness?”

“Nausea . Migraine. Just need some rest.” His words slurred a bit, but this time his eyes focused on his friend. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had a concussion Bones. I’ll survive.”

“I’m more than aware of that.” Jim could vaguely feel McCoy’s hands feel for the bump on his head. “Spock told me what that woman Andrea told you. Now, I’m going to ask how you’re feeling, and you’re going to answer honestly, not give me a smart ass remark, or any other behavior that’s going to make me regret asking.”

Jim shrugged.

“Jim.” The doctor said in a heavy southern drawl.

“I’m trying not to think about it honestly.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “Truth is, I stopped thinking about it when Andrea started talking about it. If I did . . .” He opened his eyes to mere slits. “I can’t lose it Bones. I almost had a fucking panic attack the moment I saw . . . it. I can’t afford to be weak like that. I’m captain. I have to be strong for the others.”

“Well that might be all well and good for a short term solution, but it won’t change the situation we got ourselves in. Knowing our luck, it is what you think it is, and you’re going to have to tell them what you know.” McCoy’s eyes softened. “At the very least tell Sp─”

“No,” Jim interrupted.

“For god’s sake Jim, he needs to know. I can’t be there the entire time, and Spock needs a head’s up so he can make sure you stay sane enough to get us out of this mess.”

“No,” the captain repeated more stubbornly, closing his eyes once more.

“No, don’t you dare fall asleep out here to avoid the conversation.” It was too late. Jim’s breathing had evened out, his head falling to the side just slightly. “Son of a bitch. Does he think I’m a Vulcan or somethin’? How the hell am I supposed to move his stubborn ass?”

“Perhaps I can be of assistance Doctor McCoy?” the doctor jumped, whirling his head around to see Spock emerging from the rocks. He held Jim’s thermal shirt in his hand.

“Jesus Spock.” A scowl crossed McCoy’s lips as his hand rested on his chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“I just came to inform you that Ensign Pennington has regained consciousness. I thought I should inform you.” Even off the ship, the Vulcan kept perfect posture with his hands placed behind his back. “If I may inquire, how is the captain?” Spock kept his face perfectly blank. More blank than usual which only gave Spock’s true feelings away. The more stoic the face, the more worried Spock was. It didn’t seem that the Vulcan had quite figured out that tell however. Jim had told the good doctor this tell before in the past. Even knowing that, it was still hard for him to see past the surface. It just wasn’t natural to keep your emotions locked up.

“The idiot is suffering from a concussion. All I can do is give him some painkillers and keep an eye on him while he rests. Of course he had to fall asleep out here instead of next to a warm fire because why not try to get hypothermia while he’s at it.” The irritation was quite obvious in McCoy’s voice, but it was underlined with worry on whether or not Jim had fallen asleep or had fallen unconscious.

“Do not worry, Doctor. I will bring Jim to the fire to get warm while you proceed to check over the Ensign.” Spock said it casually, but the other party wasn’t fooled in the slightest.

The doctor’s eyebrow arched in amusement. “Sure I’ll head on back.” He stood up, stretching a bit. As he passed Spock, he placed a hand on the taller man’s shoulder. “

"Don’t do anything Jim would do.” Before Spock could question the doctor to clarify, McCoy had already slipped back into their shelter.

Spock turned to the sleeping human, watching him for a few seconds. Slowly, he made his way over to him, kneeling once he got to his side, he fortified his mental shields for what he was about to do. Carefully, the Vulcan slipped his hand behind the sleeping man’s naked back, leaning him forward so that he could be dressed. Even after being exposed to the wind, Jim’s skin was still warm to the touch.

It was easier to focus without the exposed skin to distract him, and Spock took that brief second to analyze him. All day, Jim had been on edge, withdrawing inside himself, and keeping his secrets close to his heart. His face had been pinched in pain and his body guarded. In sleep, Jim finally looked like he was truly resting. Though there was still lingering signs of pain, his face was relaxed and seemed to give off a small glow from the moonlight, making his blond hair all the brighter as if it was a halo.

Perhaps because of his lack of meditations or perhaps because he found he truly did not care at that moment, he gave into his impulses. In the back of his mind, he knew how unseemly it was to do so, that his grandmother and father would look at him disapprovingly if they were to ever find out, but the thought did not stop him as it had done in the past. Spock lifted two fingers, his forefinger and his middle finger of his right hand, and touched them to Jim’s temple and let them slide down to the sleeping man’s jaw.

Even with strengthened shields, he could feel Jim’s mind, his soul, reacting under his fingertips, calling out to him. And he could feel his katra pleasantly sighing in response. “ _Ashaya,_ ” he whispered. “ _Taluhk nash-veh k’dular_.” His fingers lingered on his jaw before he moved them to brush the back of the warm tan hand. “ _Ki’ri don nash-veh, hi sanu kaltor nash-veh k’tu kup-hafau._ ”

Spock allowed the contact to remain for a while longer until he lifted Jim into his arms and head back to the camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please Comment! I love hearing your thoughts and idea. 
> 
> Ashaya- term of endearment
> 
> Taluhk nash-veh k'dular- I cherish thee.
> 
> Ki'ri don nash-veh, hi sanu kaltor nash-veh k'tu kup-hafau- I have no worth, but please allow me to remain with you.
> 
> It took me an hour and a half to come up with that last sentence using available words from the Vulcan Dictionary. What I really wanted to say was Please allow me to remain by your side, though I have no worth. I couldn't find a though. It also took me some time so I can somewhat try to get the syntax right. I am well aware I probably butchered that attempt. Oh well.


	6. Deja Vu

"Lieutenant Commander Scott, we have the damage report." Scotty nodded absent mindedly, grabbing the PADD with his teeth while he tried to fix a coolant leak near the warp core. For the past 24 hours, the entire engineering department had been, and still was, working nonstop trying to patch the ship together. The Scott put his tools down on the tray beside him and removed the PADD looking over what had been fixed, what needed his attention, and what would be impossible to fix without going to a Starbase.

He cursed under his breath. While there had been some casualties, it wasn't as bad as it could have been, but the damage was still extensive to the outer hull.

He almost growled when his communicator chirped. With a tired rub of his eyes, he answered. "Scott 'ere."

"Hey Scotty, it's Sulu. Starfleet headquarters finally got back to us. They are waiting for you in the ready room. Do you want me to come join you?" Sulu sounded tired, even to Scotty and he was working at half capacity at this point. It was no surprise. Barely anyone on the ship has slept in during the past 24 hours, and only now were people getting breaks for short naps and food.

"Nah, it's okay lad. Keep watching over the bridge fer me and keep me posted."

"Will do, sir. Sulu out."

Scotty closed his communicator and looked through the contents on his PADD again, trying to plan out how he was going to describe what had happened 10 hours after the captain's shuttle had landed. He wasn't so sure what happened himself. It had been so fast.

He entered the conference room; the admiral was already up on screen. "Admiral Barnett. It is good to hear from ya, sir."

"Lieutenant Commander Scott. I have read your report, and I am finding the contents to be very disheartening. Do you mind saying what happened in your own words?"

"Aye sir. Twelve hours after the captain and Commander Spock, departed for the planet, an unidentified ship dropped out of warp about two kilometers away from the planet. The ship possessed advanced weaponry, efficiently blocking our communications. She was a lovely piece of work I got to say Admiral. If I could get my hands on her," Scotty chuckled, "well that would be a night to remember. Taking her apart piece by pi─"

"Yes, Mr. Scott, I am well aware of your love affairs with engineering, but please stay on topic. You're two commanding officers and chief medical officer are currently left on a most likely hostile planet." The admiral rubbed his temples, clearly already worn out from this discussion.

"Aye, my apologies admiral. We tried to establish contact, but it wouldn't respond, then it opened fired. One shot completely disabled shields and tore through the hull of decks five through nine. I made the decision right then to withdrawal. I gave Sulu the bridge, and made my way to engineering to help repair the damages."

"And the damage report?"

"It's not looking too good Admiral. We're a sitting duck, and we need parts. I can get 'er to limp back to the nearest space dock, but we are in no condition to fight let alone defend ourselves."

"Understood, Lieutenant Commander Scott. Keep going with repairs. The nearest available Starship is a week away at their fastest speed. It's already en route; just hold on until assistance arrives."

"We'll definitely do our best sir. Now if you would excuse me Admiral, I got to get back to engineering before one of the lads downstairs, accidentally make a crack in the matter/anti-matter chamber and ─" Scotty was interrupted by the ship shaking, jarring him to the right, almost falling over. "Sorry admiral, looks like I'm needed in engineering."

Barnett nodded dismissing him, and the line disconnected. Now he had to find the idiot who was trying to blow up his precious lady.

* * *

_How is he Doctor?_ The voice pulled him out of the darkness. Out of the nightmares.

_He should be coming around soon. Be patient, Spock. He just suffered from a severe head injury._

_I recall you saying that he would be "fine"._

_And he will be, but let him rest while he can. It's bad enough I can't give him anything for the headache he's going to wake up with_. Jim could feel the headache they were speaking of. His head felt like it was going to split open, but he didn't have the energy to speak up or fully wake up to do anything about it. He was stuck between waking and suffering though his nightmares. He wasn't sure what was worse, the nightmares or reality.

_Spock! What are in blue blazes do you think you're doing?!_ The voice whispered sharply.

A cool hand pressed against his heated flesh. _He is suffering a migraine as well as nightmares_ , the voice replied.

The pain in his head and the echoes of the nightmares faded to the recesses of his mind. Something warm took its place. It was comforting and familiar and he clutched onto it as tight as he could. _Sleep Jim._ The voice sounded like a soft whisper inside his head. It soothed him, lulling him back into unconsciousness.

* * *

Jim awoke with a start, sweating and panting. He didn't wake from a nightmare, but from the sudden movement nearby. It took him a moment to realize it had been Spock moving by the fire, stoking it to keep it from going out.

"I apologize, Jim. I did not mean to wake you," Spock said softly, keeping his voice down. It was still dark and it seemed that everyone was asleep.

Vaguely aware that he was still panting and looking around wildly, Jim took a deep breath, wiping his face tiredly with his hand. "It's alright Spock. How long was I out?"

"26.48 hours, Captain."

So he had slept for an entire day. That wasn't very encouraging to their moral. Watching the shadows of the flames dance on the rock walls, his headache returned. Jim closed his eyes, in a futile attempt to put the pain at bay. "We need to move as soon as the sun comes up. It's not safe here."

"Captain . . . Jim, I would suggest waiting for one more day before relocating. The ensign and yourself are still far from optimal health. Further strain at this moment can worsen your condi─"

"You don't understand," Jim hissed. This caused Spock to raise both eyebrows marginally in surprise at the outburst. Glancing around to make sure the others were asleep, he looked back at Spock. "We can't stay put. It's too dangerous. If anyone saw us crash, they will be looking for us, and we already know they are hostile. We need to regroup with the _Enterprise._ "

"We have not been able to clear the interference or return to the shuttle and return to the _Enterprise_ to report our progress. As it has now been over 72 hours, a search party will be taking a shuttle to search for the landing party or the _Enterprise_ will regroup with Starfleet Command. To continue moving away from the crash zone will decrease the chances of the search party finding our current location by a significant amount."

"No percentage Spock?"

"Would you take the percentage into account when reconsidering your decision?"

Jim smiled. "Probably not."

"Then I do not see the purpose of stating facts that you will blatantly ignore," Spock said easily, keeping his focus on putting wood on the fire.

"I'm serious though Spock. We need to keep moving. Staying here is too risky."

Spock looked up from the fire, the shadows from the flames made Spock's features sharper as his dark gaze turned to Jim. "What do you not wish to tell me Jim?"

Kirk decided the fire was much easier to look at. "I thought we made a deal. I'll tell you when I'm ready." It came out harsher than he meant it to, but he didn't say more to cover the mistake. He glanced up at Spock only to see a brief flash of emotion in his eyes that he didn't quite catch before Spock returned his attention to the fire.

"You should rest while you can, Captain. I will wake you before dawn, so that we may further discuss our next action."

The human's eyes were already trying to drift shut when a thought crossed his mind. "When was the last time you slept Spock?"

"I have received an adequate amount of rest to continue keeping watch."

Exhaustion had Jim lying back down into his makeshift bed, his eyes finally giving into the pull. "Liar," he murmured, falling into unconsciousness once again.

* * *

_Dammit. Why was it so cold? Jim shivered, pulling his jacket around him tighter. It was spring yet, there was a cold front coming through, dropping the temperature to almost freezing at night. Though it was not uncommon during this time to occasionally have freezing weather at night, there had always been heating in the house. Now, they didn't even have that luxury. Two weeks on the run: never having a full night's rest, never staying put longer than a day._

_The worst part was that they could not start a fire or turn on the heater or else they would be found. All Joanna and he could do was huddle together at night under a thick blanket, praying no one would find them while they slept._

" _Here Jim, eat something." Joanna placed a small apple in his hand, salvaged from an uncontaminated tree they had passed by earlier that day._

_Jim's hands were numb with cold and his stomach twisted unpleasantly at the sight of food to the point he felt nauseous. "I'm not hungry," he murmured, trying to give it back to her._

" _Try to eat something Jim. Anything. You'll need it to keep up your strength."_

_Jim just shook his head, closing his eyes._

_The woman looked at him with concern, taking his hands and doing the best she could to warm him up. "I know it's hard," she whispered, "but you need to eat. You just so hungry right now, you don't feel it anymore is all." She tried to give him a smile. "You'll get sick if you don't try to eat something. If you get sick, how are you supposed to protect me?"_

_It got his attention at least, opening his eyes to stare at the woman before him. That was right. He had promised to protect her no matter what a year ago. He was the man in the family. It was his job._

_He took the apple, eating it as slowly as he could to at least trick his body into feeling full. The sweet meat of the apple was overwhelming to his taste buds, almost making him gag. Theoretically, he knew it wasn't the apple that was too sweet, but that he hadn't eaten anything with taste in over a month and a half, and it was almost enough to make him throw the apple away without finishing it._

_It took him ten minutes to finish his small meal. His aunt was still watching over him with worry in her eyes. He must be getting sick, that was probably why he felt so sluggish and weak._

_He didn't know when he fell asleep, only that he was shaken awake sometime later after the sun went down. "Huh, wha─?"_

" _Get under the floor boards." Joanna hissed, already pulling up the secret compartment they had stumbled upon in their search of the house._

_The small hiding spot could only fit one, and she shoved Jim into it before he could protest or suggest running. She shut the door just in time for the front door to open. There wasn't much light, but Jim could see through the false floorboards. It seemed to be a one way window, disguised as floor on one side but able to see out on the other._

_His aunt had already picked up the phaser, waiting for the intruders to come around the corner. She couldn't see the guard coming up behind her, and neither could Jim until it was too late. She was struck hard from behind. The attack stunned her, causing her to drop the phaser and fall to the ground unmoving._

" _Looky what I found boys. Isn't she a looker?" The guard who had knocked out Joanna was a beefy one, tall with enough muscle to be considered a body builder. His tight shave made him look bald, and his grin was disgusting combined with the way he stared at the unconscious woman._

" _Really you're going to do it here? It's freezing." Another guard, one he couldn't see, spoke up._

" _You're more than welcome to join me," the beefy one said with amusement in his voice. He knelt beside the woman, lifting her chin so he could see her face._

" _Maybe later," the other guard said. Jim watched in horror as the guard started to strip her._

_He was a moment away from drawing attention to himself when her eyes open, staring straight at him, knowing he was watching, knowing what he was going to do. She shook her head just barely, enough that Jim knew she was telling him to stay quiet, then she mouthed for him to close his eyes._

_The guard noticed the movement as well, and she tried to defend herself as she grabbed for the phaser that she had dropped, but the guard that Jim couldn't quite see, stepped on her hand with his heavy combat boots, crushing her fingers. She muffled her cry of pain by biting her lip, but her eyes shone with tears from it._

" _She still has fight in her," the beefy guard laughed pinning her down. "I like that."_

" _You would," the other muttered._

" _Get off me bastard," even laced with pain, her voice came out strong hiding any fear or panic she might have felt, denying them the satisfaction._

" _You better watch how you're talking to me. I might not be so gentle with you if you piss me off." The guard was still on top of her, pinning her with his body weight. His hands snaked down her back, pulling at her bra strap._

_Joanna glanced at Jim's hiding spot, warning him not to come out no matter what before she fought. The moment he shifted his body weight to rid her of her pants, she gutted his stomach with her elbow, allowing him to pull back enough to hit his windpipe._

_She might have escaped if it was only the one guard, but there was another, and he had a phaser. Jim could do nothing as she was stunned and she fell into a heap on the floor. The beefy guard had recuperated from her attack and his eyes were dark with anger. He struck her face hard, and anger bubbled in Jim's chest then horror as the man began to strangle her._

" _You will behave bitch," he growled out."I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to move, and I'll have you begging and sobbing for me to take your fucking cunt over and over again by the time I'm finished." He loosened his grip enough for her to breath for a moment then tightened it again._

_When he had enough of that he flipped her over, ripping off her clothes in the process as she shook and coughed, gasping for air. He struck her again for no good reason. Her skin was already bruising from the previous strike._

_After that, Jim could not look anymore. The moment he watched the guard pull down his own trousers, it became too much. If he continued to watch, he would not be able to stop himself from going out there to try to stop it. There was nothing he could do. He would just get both of them killed if he did. He knew that, but it didn't stop the bile that forced its way up his throat. He could not drown out the sound of skin slapping skin even when he covered his ears, and he could not stop his heart from breaking when he heard her cry out in pain and sobbing some time later. He knew she stayed as quiet as she could for his sake, but she was finally wearing down. He didn't know how long he had been in that small hiding spot when she had. Probably a few hours, given that sun was streaming into the room by that time._

_His arms and legs were cramping from staying in the same position for so long, yet he couldn't bring himself to even try to stretch. Her screams made him tense as did her cries of pain when they beat her, and he didn't look up the entire time, cursing himself at his weakness. He couldn't do a goddamned thing to help her. The guilt wrapped around his entire being, drowning him, suffocating him, taking root deep within him. Worse yet, she did not once beg or plead for them to stop. Even with dignity stripped from her, she held onto her pride._

" _Hey, you two are you done yet?" Jim hadn't heard anyone else enter the house, but he had recognized the voice it belonged to._

" _Almost, Robert. Have one last thing to do." Jim looked up for the first time since it had all started; wanting to see if it was really Joanna's Robert he had heard. He wished he hadn't. God, he wished he hadn't._

_Her bruised and cut face looked back at him. Her green eyes met his, red from crying, pained, and empty. As if sensing he was looking at her, she gave him a soft smile, her eyes warming just slightly. "I love you," she whispered. Then it all disappeared. A phaser went off, piercing through the back of her head, searing its way through to the front._

_Jim's eyes were wide. He stopped breathing. He could only stare at the perfect hole between her eyes. There was no blood or brain matter, just the hole since the wound cauterized from the heat of the phaser shot. He could literally see to the other side. Her head fell against the door, filling Jim's gaze with her expressionless face._

_Jim was panting now and he couldn't stop the bile that rushed up. He caught it in his shirt, so that the sound of the splatter wouldn't alert the others to his presence and he fought the instinctive cough afterwards only to be rewarded with another wave of nausea and vomiting._

" _All done," the guard said nonchalantly. Jim barely heard the zipper go up on the man's trousers and he had to fight yet another wave of nausea. He was successful this time._

" _You're such a kill joy Robert. I didn't even get my second turn with her," said the other guard Jim had yet to see._

_There was silence for a moment, then a weary sigh."That was my fiancé you ass."_

" _Oops," the beefy guard said, not sounding apologetic at all. There was more silence before he spoke again. "Don't give me that look. If you wanted her, you should have asked Kodos to spare her from the execution list."_

" _I tried," Robert's tenor voice said. "Let's get out of here. We have orders."_

_Jim listened to their heavy footfalls head towards the door. The door opened with a whoosh then closed behind them. An hour or two passed before he even attempted to move. There was barely enough room to crouch let alone stand, but he needed the leverage to push Joanna off the door. The air in the small area had quickly gone pungent from the acidity of his throw up. It was hard to breathe it in yet it barely registered in his mind growing accustomed to the odor as he waited._

_It took about a minute of repeated pounding with his shoulder against the hatch to get her to roll off. He climbed out and stared at Joanna's naked body. A flood of emotions swam through them and it was overwhelming. His legs gave out from under him, his back hitting the wall, sliding down to the floor with tears in his eyes. The one person who had ever truly loved him was gone._

_Unable to do anything else, he cried. Cried for his weakness, his cowardice, his anger, and feelings of betrayal. He cried until there was nothing left but an empty shell void of emotions. He sat on the cold floor, staring at the body. He no longer felt cold._

_As the sun became high in the sky, he moved to get the phaser that his aunt had been using until the guard had knocked it under a table and forgotten about it. He latched it to his belt as if it had always belonged there. Their partially eaten dinner that had been knocked to the floor and trampled upon was covered in dirt. He stared at it. Kneeling down beside it, he picked it up off the floor, shoving it in his mouth quickly and devouring it. Vaguely he remembered it should have had tasted horrible and he should have been disgusted, but he didn't care to register what it was he put in his mouth. He needed food to keep his strength up. He couldn't afford to not have the energy. Whatever illness he was getting before would have to be pushed back, ignored until he got out of this hell hole. He glanced at the corpse. Joanna gave up herself so he could live. He wouldn't throw it away._

_With that thought in mind, he moved on autopilot. Going through the motions of packing up whatever the guards had left, cleaning up his presence, but leaving hers. There would be no burial. Her body would stay where the fungus could take root. He couldn't afford the time and he couldn't give away that he was in the area even by leaving an unmarked grave._

_He took off his shirt and put on his aunt's discarded one on instead until he could wash his. It was a bit tight, and the sleeves stopped two inches above his wrists, but it was better than nothing._

_He left the house and left with his backpack and a few things from his aunt's. The extra food had been taken, but the water and some medical supplies were still there. Not a surprise since the security team under Kodos had access to the clinic and other supplies directly._

_Leaving the settlement was easy enough. Most the guards had left, leaving only a few behind. He covered his tracks, and slipped into the dark woods navigating through them. As he did all this, he thought of nothing. Felt nothing. His body moved as it had been doing for the past two weeks. A different type of cold had taken hold on him._

_When the sun fell, he kept moving instead of making camp. He should have stopped. Shelter was important, but luckily it was a warm night. The cool wind only caused minor discomfort, so he kept pushing. The moon rose in the sky, lighting his way through the forest._

_Out of his own head, Jim didn't hear the cries of a child or the curses of a man until he had rounded a corner of a storage shed for a farm at the edge of the next territory. Or maybe he had been pulled this direction because he had heard them. Either way, he took in the way the man held the small boy's arms so tightly it seemed that the small bone would break under the pressure. The boy screamed as the guard tried to take off the kid's shirt. "Hold fucking still. If you be good, I'll give you something to eat."_

_Jim watched without an ounce of emotion on his face as the kid stopped struggling. His panicked brown eyes caught sight of him. His cheeks were stained with tears, and he begged silently._

_It was unneeded. Jim already knew what he was going to do the moment he recognized the man's voice to be the guard he hadn't been able to see the night before. He was short, balding and had a beer belly. Not that it mattered what the man looked like. Jim stepped out behind the tree, phaser raised and shot the man in the back._

_It took only one shot to bring him down, but Jim shot again and again. With each shot he took another step closer, staring on in indifference. The man was dead. He was after the first shot, but he kept shooting, filling the body with holes until he was a foot away._

_The child, who had been released after the first shot, looked up at his cold, closed off face from the ground eyes wide with fear. When Jim returned the gaze, he scrambled back, averting his eyes to look at anything but the dead man and the teen that had killed him in cold blood._

_Jim didn't bother to ask why the kid was out here alone, if there were anyone else nearby, or if his parents were still alive. He knew the answers already. It was a waste of time to ask them. Instead he said, "you can come with me if you want or you can go wherever. I don't really care. Just choose quickly." His tone was flat and uncaring, and he didn't give two shits about it. Jim was already turning around heading back towards the cliffs where he knew there were caves hidden behind rocks that he could squeeze between. It would be safer there._

_Tentatively, he heard small footsteps following behind him. They were noisy, left a trail, and were easy to track by almost anyone. That wouldn't do. "Kid, if you're going to follow me, you're going to have to learn how to walk without drawing attention to yourself." Joanna had taught him the same lesson the day they had run. He still had to think about it at times but it was almost second nature to him now. Now he was going to teach it to someone else._

" _My name's not kid," the child muttered with a thick Irish accent, frowning as he looked at his feet. "It's Kevin. Kevin Riley."_

* * *

_Jim. Jim!_ Kirk startled awake, memories still swimming around his head taking him longer to focus than he would have first sight that he was greeted with was shinny muzzle of a phaser.

"Shit," he muttered. A hand grabbed his bicep and yanked him to his feet.

The man who held the phaser had long brown hair that reached his shoulders, and a tanned complexion. His body odor was strong only overpowered by the smell of his rags he used as clothes. Jim took a quick look around to assess the situation before being forced to kneel beside Spock, phaser to his head.

There were two other men. One who held a phaser to Uhura and Ensign Pennington who had a resemblance to Jim's captor except for his younger features, and another who had a phaser to Spock and Bones and a knife at his hip.

"This is what's going to happen," the man who grabbed Jim, and must have been the leader, said, looking at everyone in the camp. He didn't raise his voice. He was fairly calm and cold. Those were the worst types in Jim's experience. "We're going to take all your food and supplies and you're going to let us. You won't talk, and you won't move. You do that and we'll leave you alone." His dark eyes glanced at Uhura. "Mostly."

Jim knew the routine. He could tell when someone was bluffing or all business. This was one of those few times where the man was all business and kept his mouth shut. His kids would have known to follow his lead, would have seen the signs themselves. For that moment, he forgot he wasn't Big Brother Jim and that he was now Captain James T. Kirk. He forgot that his crew had no idea that normal rules did not apply here on this planet, in this situation. While he could trust Spock to sense that the human was deadly serious, he could not trust Bones to not grumble a smartass remark, or believe that his communications officer would try to negotiate. He forgot that there was a young naïve officer who had yet to learn that people no longer saw reason when put into a desperate situation they believed they had no hope of getting out of.

"We are officers of the USS Enterprise. We are here to help you," Pennington offered. His heart was in the right place. He was eager to please his captain and take control of the situation. If he had more experience, he would have known better.

The man behind him wasted no time to slice open his throat with a knife pulled out of his shirt sleeve. Uhura stifled a gasp at the sight of the blood, covering her mouth with her hands to contain it. McCoy looked green as he watched the ensign fall and choke with his last remaining moments. Kirk was sure McCoy was mustering every ounce of strength to not go to the young man's side or curse out his murderer. Even Spock had gone rigid from the lack of hesitation on their captive's part.

"No talking. No moving," the leader repeated, completely unfazed.

The voice was drowned out by the rush of blood pounding in Jim's ears. He couldn't bring himself to look away from the young man. He had already stopped moving; his face had gone pale and his eyes dull. Once again he had been too weak to save someone.

Jim's eyes wondered to the woman and child they had brought to camp. They were safely standing behind the leader. So they had been betrayed. Those two had brought them here.

He closed his eyes cursing himself. He knew better than to do that. He knew yet . . . fuck.

"Danny, everything of use has been gathered," Andrea whispered, handing out the bag to the leader known as Danny. The man took the bag, shouldering it.

"Danny, about the woman?" The younger brother asked.

_No. No._ Jim paled.

"Just be quick. We have to get back to camp before day break."

Uhura turned panicked eyes to her captain. She couldn't fight back, not with a knife and phaser aimed at her. What should she do?

Jim was frozen. This couldn't be happening. Not again.

Uhura cursed her attacker in Klingon, having decided to fight, but her movements were limited with a knife being pressed to her throat. Obviously the man did not like his prey to fight back. Spock was glancing at him, silently asking what they should do.

Dammit. What could he do? He heard the fabric of her uniform rip. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. Why was he useless? Why was he so fucking useless?!

_You are not useless, Jim. Clear your mind and think._ That small voice called to him through his panicked haze.

That was right. He was captain now. Not that scared little boy from over a decade ago. He had received training, he was healthy, and he had the strength he lacked back then. He was going to protect his crew, no matter what.

His eyes turned cold, eyeing Uhura's quiet panic as she tried to ignore the man grabbing her breasts roughly, his mouth leaving kisses on her neck. She was calm and still thinking clearly though. Good. He'd need that. He glanced at Spock, conveying him to follow his lead. Uhura just needed a chance to counter. He could do that for her. Spock raised an eyebrow, one that expressed that he understood.

Kirk didn't waste any more time. He turned, grabbing the knife from the man's waist behind him, while Spock rushed the leader Danny. Both turned to shoot Spock. Jim stabbed the man closest to him just behind the knee, causing him to scream and draw the attention of the other two men.

Danny was slow in his reaction, the heavy backpack slowing his movements enough to turn to Spock then Jim, then back to Spock. Spock closed the distance, disarming his opponent quickly and gracefully, taking the phaser and turning it stun before turning it on Danny.

Jim meanwhile took the knife, from the man's knee, grabbed the arm with the phaser, yanked him forward then sliced his neck with a quick movement of his wrist.

The commotion drew the attention of Uhura's attacker. It was enough for her to wrap her fingers tightly around the blade and kick the man's crotch hard, knocking the breath out of him. She took the opportunity to roll them over, bend his arm the wrong way, relieve him of the knife and turn it on him, straddling his waist with a heated glare.

Danny was still calm, even though one of his men was dead. He looked closer at Jim, and for the first time since this encounter his eyes showed interest in something. "You are one of us," he voice held some sort of amusement.

"I am nothing like you," Jim growled.

"But you are. How many people have you killed? How many have you seen die?"

Kirk didn't answer, but his entire body lacked any feeling or warmth.

"You are just like me. You'd do anything for your family."

As if to make a point, the man Uhura had subdued pulled out his phaser. Uhura saw him move and dodged. It grazed her shoulder and forced her off him to avoid another shot. She scrambled up to her knees, but the phaser was already pointed at her. Jim didn't even hesitate. He turned and shot the man.

Uhura moved before the body could fall on top of her, but it was obvious she was shaken up by the way her body trembling just slightly. Jim watched with an eerie calm.

Danny's eyes hardened at the sight of his brother's body. "You didn't even feel anything when you killed him did you? Killed Nathan without feeling a fucking thing. You're just like me."

"You are mistaken. The captain has no qualities similar to yours in any way. The captain only kills as a last resort," Spock spoke matter of factly.

It caused the man to laugh humorlessly. "Is that so? You're captain had plenty of time to switch his phaser to stun the moment he got it didn't he? So why did he use the kill setting instead of stun?"

The entire camp went silent.

It was Jim's turn to narrow his eyes and approach the man called Danny. "As we can't have you following us─" he raised the phaser to Danny's head.

"Captain," Spock's hand grabbed his wrist. It didn't take a genius to know what Spock was silently asking him to do, but Spock didn't understand. He couldn't. There were different rules here. There weren't starship regulations or federation laws that could be upheld and enforced. This was survival. "I'm sorry Mr. Spock, but if we let him go, he will come back with more men and retaliate."

"Jim," he said quietly. That was low of Spock to resort to making it a personal request by using his name instead of referring to his rank, Jim thought. "If you do this, you will be following their rules. You are above such actions. You are superior to this."

There was a breath of silence then the sound of the phaser going off followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground.

All eyes were on him. He was aware of that, yet Jim didn't care. His attention was to Andrea and Luka. "Leave everything you have and get out of here. If I catch you attacking my people or attempting to retaliate again, I won't hesitate to kill you."

The woman looked sick. She dropped the second backpack along with the small bag she had brought with her as fast as humanly possible. When she grabbed Luca's hand, Jim fired into the air, startling her. "Luca stays." Then he added as an afterthought, "No harm will come to him." The second half of his statement was softer than anything else he had said since awakening.

She looked at Luca, kneeling she whispered something into his ear. The child nodded to whatever was said, gave her a quick hug, and she was off.

Luca made his way across the camp looking up at Jim expectantly. Jim had seen that look before. On kids so desensitized to the situation that death didn't bother them. On children who had been touched, like Kevin had almost been. This child was used to being passed around from one adult to another, no longer afraid of it, too tired and hungry to care past finding food. Andrea was probably the only adult that took care of him. The thought of what the boy believed Jim would do to him was sickening. He had been too late to save him from suffering the same fate some of his kids on Tarsus had. But Luca was still alive. That was what mattered.

"No one will touch you again," Jim murmured, just loud enough for Luca and possibly Spock to hear.

Luca seemed to understand what he meant and his shoulders slumped with relief. He didn't look at him with hatred and fear.

The same couldn't be said for everyone else. As he turned around, Spock was staring at him with an unreadable expression, McCoy was looking at the dead bodies as if debating whether he would throw up or not, and Uhura wouldn't look at him.

"What the hell were you thinking Jim?!" McCoy spoke up, having been the first to somewhat recover from his shock. "Did you have to kill them? Couldn't you have at least let one of them live so we could get some answers or something?"

He didn't have time for McCoy's nervous blabber. There was only one person he wanted to talk to.

Uhura didn't look him as he approached her. She held her ripped uniform together with her hands, staring quietly at the ground. "You okay?"

A slight nod. "Just . . . need a moment. . . I'll be fine, Captain." She squirmed under her superior's gaze.

Jim took off his shirt. He only meant to hand it to her, but she flinched when he reached out.

"I'm s-sorry," she stammered.

Jim only paused for a moment then seemingly unfazed by her actions, set the shirt several feet away from her. "Keep warm, lieutenant," he whispered quietly.

Moving away to let her collect herself, he was once again assaulted by Bone's rant. He didn't have time for this. "Bone's you're a doctor. Do your job and treat the lieutenant."

"Goddamnit Jim, I'm trying to talk to you. You need to calm down! You're making Spock look like he's part of the damn glee club with as much emotion you're putting out."

"Are you my second in command Doctor McCoy?" Jim stared him down.

Leonard faltered. "No."

"Are you going to offer any tactical advice to get us out of here alive?"

"No, but dammit Jim, you need─"

"Then I suggest Doctor that you do your job and keep your mouth shut."

McCoy was left gaping, unsure what to say. Jim was fine with that. He left the rock formation, planning to keep watch until they were ready to leave. He didn't care that he had unsettled his crew, didn't care that they might fear him. He was fine with that. He was going to protect his crew. He rather them fear and hate him and live than respect him and be dead, because from here on out, he wasn't going to lose another crew member to this planet. He would make sure of that.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Check out Plugged In. I'll be alternating between the two whenever I'm stuck with one story. Comment!


	7. Anchor McCoy

Spock approached Uhura the moment McCoy had finished evaluating her. She suffered from some bruising, but overall she was fine physically. Doctor McCoy had not been able to get her to talk, and he hadn’t tried too hard, dealing with his own problems as well as everyone else’s. She sat around the fire, thermal blanket around her to steady her nerves. The ensign wasn’t going to need it anymore.

“Are you well, Nyota?” Spock asked softly, settling into a spot beside her. It was obvious that she was not, but humans always seemed to prefer asking obvious questions in situations like these.

She was quiet for some time, not doing anything except burying her face in her arms. Then she looked up, her chin resting on her knees. “It is my fault that the captain was pushed that far.”

“Nyota, you have done nothing─”

“But it was Spock. I hesitated. The academy teaches you how to fire a phaser and how to defend yourself, but that’s different than slitting someone’s throat. I mean . . .” she peered at the now dead ensign, and her form shuttered. “Shooting a phaser is so much cleaner and impersonal compared to . . . that,” she motioned to the ensign. “I could feel him, and when it came to it, when he moved for the phaser, I just couldn’t take that last step. I just couldn’t kill him like that. I’m not a some pre-World War III soldier. I’m a Starfleet officer. I can protect myself, but I can't just murder someone like that. I joined Starfleet to explore and protect, not this.

“So the Captain made the decision for me and killed him to protect me.”

Spock decided to remain silent. Nyota did no need to know he believed Jim would have killed him anyway even if the phaser wasn’t reached for, and the knowledge of that was unsettling to him. He had never seen the captain act so cold, not even when giving the order to blast away the _Narada_.

“Have you talked to him?” She asked.

“I had sensed Jim wished to be alone.”

“Doesn’t mean you should let him.” She unraveled a little bit from her from her ball, her shoulders finally relaxing. “We made an agreement you know. That I’d only allow you to break up with me if you told Jim how you felt. Avoiding him when you can isn’t exactly how you go about confessing to someone. I had thought you told him before we left with the whole awkwardness between you two, but overhearing your conversation with McCoy, I’m guessing not.”

“As I understand it, it is considered impolite to eavesdrop by human customs.”

She snorted. “Not like there’s anywhere else to go or do while we’re stuck here. But you need to tell him.”

“There is no point in revealing my . . . fondness for him when it will not be reciprocated.”

“You don’t know that,” she said gently.

Spock's lips thinned. It was bad enough the doctor was questioning him. He did not wish for Nyota to add to the situation; however, her prying seemed to pull her out of the shell she had built around herself since the attack and found it hard pressed to deny her the comfort it seemed to be offering her. “The captain is not interested in males. All his previous conquests have always been female.”

“Maybe you’ll be his first,” she offered. “He’s t’hy’la, right? No one else will do?”

“No one else will do,” he repeated, so quietly he wondered if he even spoke at all even if he knew he did. “He is t’hy’la.”

“Then let me give you a hint on how to woe humans. Jim’s had enough time to calm down. Right now, he needs someone, and most likely he’ll turn everyone away but you, as always.”

“Nyota,” he whispered “Please do not─”

“Go to him Spock. Trust me. I’m a communications expert.”

Closing his eyes, he finally gave in. “Indeed you are.”

* * *

 

Jim hadn’t moved from his spot against the rock, staring off into the distance with the phaser clutched tightly in his hand. He looked tired and worn, the corners of his eyes were scrunched up with pain, and anxiety radiated off of him.

Spock took a seat beside him, vaguely surprised that his captain had not been startled or lashed out at his presence as wound up as he was. He could feel it. Jim was ready to crack with the right pressure. This was neither Captain Kirk nor was it the man who had shot down their attackers an hour before. This Kirk seemed lost, conflicted, and afraid, just holding on by the skin of his teeth.

They sat in complete silence with only the sounds of the wind between them.

As the Vulcan sat, wondering what he should say, Kirk spoke first. “How is Uhura doing?”

“Unsettled, but she will recover with time.”

“That’s good,” the human hesitated. After some time, he said, “I can’t tell you what you want to know.” If possible, he curled into himself more, closing off to Spock.

“I had said that I would not ask unless it became crucial to our survival. It has.”

Jim shook his head. “I can’t tell you. I just can’t.”

“Jim, I will not say you owe me an explanation, but even I can tell that your mind is in chaos without touching you. If there is someone else you rather speak to than me . . .” Spock trailed off.

The laughter was a bit unexpected. It was humorless and empty. “Who would I talk to? You’re all scared of me right?”

“No one fears you, Jim. At the very least, trust that I do not fear you. I am willing to listen.”

“No! You don’t get it!” He shot up to his feet and started pacing, gesturing with his hands. He was starting to crack. “If I tell you, then you’ll never look at me the same again. None of you will!”

“Jim, no matter what happened in your past; it will not change my opinion of you.”

Kirk laughed again, this time it was almost hysterical. His body was shaking when he stopped his pacing, and he turned his cold blue eyes to Spock, looking him straight in the eye. “Are you so sure about that?”

Spock didn’t hesitate. “Affirmative.”

Jim’s eyes narrowed. “I’m a murderer Spock.”

“What had happened tonight was not─”

“My first kill was when I was fourteen years old. I shot him in the back, and I kept on shooting when he was down until you couldn't even recognize him.”

Jim waited for Spock to say something. The Vulcan seemed to have trouble understanding what was being said to him. It was not a surprise. Not only was his stay on Tarsus not in his file, if he was a murderer as he had put it, there should be no way he could join Starfleet never the less be captain.

“I believe you must have had a reason to do so, Jim,” Spock said after some time.

“You really think so huh? Even after a month later I snuck into a man’s tent and strangled him with a wire? Or a few days after that when I seduced a man so I could impale him on a spear I made with my two hands?” Jim’s voice was almost a growl. “Can you still respect me now, Spock?”

The Vulcan narrowed his eyes a fraction. “If you have truly done these things, then I believe there is a reason.”

“My reason,” Jim barked, “is that they had what I wanted, and so I killed them to take it.”

 _Don’t trust, push them away. If they die, it won’t hurt so much. Protect yourself. Protect them._ “Whatever it takes to survive. That is the cardinal rule out here Spock.”

“Jim, you must calm yourself. I do not believe you will take a life carelessly, and I believe it has something to do with the fungus we discovered 1.83 days ago.”

Jim grabbed a fistful of Spock’s shirt, yanking him forward. “Then you’re an idiot. You know nothing about me. About how much I’ve really done.”

“Then tell me,” Spock challenged. His eyes softened. “I am here for you, Jim.”

 _T_ oo _afraid. Won’t look at me the same if he knew. I’m broken._

The captain faltered. How was he to tell Spock the truth? He trusted Spock and had come to rely on him and his friendship. He never wanted to let Spock see this side of him. He never wanted Spock to lose the respect he held for his captain. His whole body shook violently. How could he not tell him if he wanted to keep the Vulcan alive?

“Jim . . . tell me.” Spock whispered, placing his hands cautiously on his yellow clad shoulders.

“I . . . I . . .” His breathing accelerated, feeling the symptoms of a panic attack sneak up on him, and he couldn’t stop it. There was no choice. Survival came first. He had to tell him about Tarsus, but the words would not leave his throat. _Say it. Come on say it!_

“He was on Tarsus IV.” Jim’s head whipped around so fast there was an audible crack which he paid no mind to as his attention was fully on McCoy.

Spock felt a mixture of emotions coming off Jim: anger, fear, and relief. Like a weight had been lifted off his shoulder and the anxiety fell to more tolerable levels. It was like the fight was drained right out of him. “Bones,” Jim said wearily.

“During the massacre, the kid was there.” McCoy continued, looking grim.

Jim finally released Spock’s shirt, looking at the ground and avoiding eye contact with anyone.

“Tarsus IV . . . was that not the colony that suffered a famine approximately 13.58 years ago?”

“Yeah, but there was a lot that report didn’t tell to the public. Wasn’t there, Jim?”

Jim only nodded, sinking back to the ground, falling back into the emotionally closed off state Spock had found him in.

McCoy watched him worriedly, but did not approach. Not with the way, Kirk still clutched the phaser in his hands like it was his only life line. He was not naïve enough to believe that Kirk wouldn’t turn on him in this state. He wasn’t Spock who could approach Jim silently and Jim would know he was there. If he approached, it would startle his friend and that was the last thing his captain needed.

“Captain, would you please describe the events that happened on the colony known as Tarsus IV?” Spock asked quietly.

McCoy had heard bits and pieces from Jim. He never went into detail about the events though thanks to his ethics class at the academy, he did see some aftermath photos. Not even that amount of information could have prepared him for the whole story. Jim told him of the massacre, Kudos speech, and how he had escaped. He told them of his life scavenging for food everyday while hiding from the guards with his aunt, how bad the living conditions really were, how a lot of the people died from inhaling too many of the spores from the fungus.

When Jim spoke of the events, he was detached from himself, speaking in monotone as if he was nothing more than an outsider. It was probably the only way he could get through telling the story, but the swings from stoicism and absolute rage was concerning.

“And what of your aunt?”

McCoy threw a glare at Spock for asking that question when it was quite obvious that she had died on the planet, especially when his captain pulled his legs up to his chest.

“She was raped and killed in front of me by two guards while I hid,” he whispered. “If I had not been with her, she would have survived. Joanna would still be alive.”

Survivor guilt, McCoy thought. He almost winced at the revelation of what happened to his aunt. Jim had never mentioned her name or how she died before, just that she was with him on the planet.

Suddenly Jim’s reaction back at the academy made sense.

_“So that’s her,” the young man stood behind the young doctor at the holo of a cute three year old girl with bright blonde hair and green eyes holding up a badly drawn picture that consisted mostly of colorful scribbles. “Look Bone’s, she looks just like you. Got your scowl and everything.”_

_“Ha ha very funny, brat. She was just in a bad mood when I took the holo is all. Joanna got scolded by her mother. Some boy pushed her down on the playground.”_

_Jim tensed and his eyes had gone steely for a moment. When he spoke again his voice was tight. “I hope he got what was coming to him.”_

Leonard had not roomed with Jim long. It had only been a month since they met on the shuttle, but they had become friends quickly even though they didn’t know much about one another’s personal lives before the academy. This was the first time that he had ever seen such a dark look on his friend’s face. He wasn’t naïve. He knew something was off after a week of rooming with him. Jim always had food on him readily available, including food rations hidden away in various locations, people rarely had the ability to sneak up on him, very aware of his surroundings to a scary extent, and he didn’t believe in defeat. They were great traits for an officer, a soldier, but wasn’t that why they were at the academy? To learn to be one?

“ _I said she was the one scolded didn’t I? She bit him then kicked the little punk. Sent the kid crying back to his mom.” McCoy couldn’t help a smug smile escape. “That’s my girl.”_

_Jim relaxed and gave a tentative smile back, looking almost sad. “Yeah, Joanna’s a good name. She’ll grow up big and strong._

It would be another two semesters before they took the ethics class where McCoy would get the story. While he had a few guesses about his roommate’s odd traits and behaviors, he didn’t question nor did he care to look into it. Jim seemed well adjusted and happy. If the young man didn’t want to share then he wasn’t going to force him.

When the ethics professor turned to a slide of the destroyed farms on Tarsus before mentioning what the day’s seminar would entail, the doctor didn’t think twice about Jim’s stiff posture at first; that was until he didn’t relax after a few minutes and instead progressively got worse. There were very few slides, and the ethics debate was mostly about whether Kodos would have made the right decision if help had not arrived in time, but by the twenty minute mark, he was worried.

In Jim’s defense, he had managed to sit through the first half an hour before he stood, shaking, and mumbling to himself. He had almost tripped in his haste to get out of the classroom. The professor called after him, telling him he would fail the course if he did not sit through the seminar, but he hadn’t listen. It was subtle, but McCoy saw the symptoms. He got up to follow him.

Jim must have gone into a dead run the moment he hit the doorway because he was out of sight when McCoy left the classroom. Acting on a guess, he had decided to check the closest bathroom. Jim was on the floor in the midst of a severe panic attack. His whole body had been shaking, his skin clammy, his hands were clutching his chest, and he was hyperventilating.

Without hesitating, Leonard had locked the door and cursed himself for not having his medical kit with him. All he could really do was try to calm him and wait for him to ride out the attack. He knelt beside Jim, taking his hand to offer the younger man an anchor to reality. “Breathe, Kid. Take deep breaths. That’s right. Good job. Breathe.”

Jim took a few breathes then shook his head. “She got it wrong. She’s wrong,” he choked out, still trying to fight back the panic. “God, she’s wrong. She doesn’t know anything.”

“She got what wrong, Jim?” McCoy asked in a calm voice he used with his patients that didn't annoy him or wasn’t Jim.

“It was pure panic. The guards, they turned on us. People turned on one another.” Jim closed his eyes as if trying to block out the memories.

McCoy’s eyes went wide at what Jim was saying. “Dear God, you were there.”

Jim rocked himself for several minutes. As the panic attack started to wear off, Jim eventually nodded to the doctor's statement. He looked tired and still on edge, but he added in a small voice, “That girl, the one on the last slide. She died two days before help arrived. I know I couldn’t do anything, but the way the professor spoke about her. Like nothing else happened to her besides starving to death. That starving was the most anyone had to worry about, that after the massacre no one had to worry about being murdered anymore, I couldn’t take it.”

It took another fifteen minutes for Jim to pick himself off the floor and act like nothing _happened._ Jim did not go to the ethic class the rest of the week and after some interference from Pike, it didn’t affect his grade, though the ethics teacher looked at him with pity from then on.

The only clue that the event even happened was the nightmares Jim suffered afterwards. After a particularly bad one that left Jim drenched in sweat and shaking, McCoy announced that Joanna was allowed to stay with him for the weekend. At the announcement, the young man smiled for real, the first time in two weeks. Though Kirk had never met her, he was strangely protective over her.

By the end of the weekend, Joanna had taken to calling the young cadet, Uncle Jim, which left said cadet beaming and the nightmares dwindled, becoming a thing of the past. It was as if Joanna had given him some closure. McCoy couldn’t ask. He only got a little more information after that, usually when Jim was so drunk off his ass he couldn’t tell up from down. Hearing the story in detail, he was surprised that Jim only had the occasional nightmare and panic attack. Hell, by all accounts it’s amazing he didn’t end up a psychopath, dead, or worse. The fact he kept it together this long being on this hellhole was another story, and suddenly, it became very difficult to blame Jim for killing the two men and stealing Luca away. It was still wrong, but it was no longer black and white, especially to Jim. Not when he was acting on instincts that kept him alive before.

Spock stayed as impassive as ever. What was going on in that Vulcan head of his, McCoy wondered? It was always hard to read him when it came to Jim. Dark eyes glanced at him then back to Jim. Understanding, he got up and left.

Whether Jim noticed his friend’s departure or not was up for debate as he made no move or sound the moment he stopped talking. But it left him and Spock alone again.

“Do you get it now? I am just like them,” Jim whispered. “I didn’t feel anything when I killed them.”

Spock said nothing. There was nothing he could say that would assure Jim. He took Jim’s hand in his. All he could do was hold his hand, knowing that Jim probably did not understand the meaning of such action.

Jim looked at the pale hand holding his, his eyes wide with surprise. He shook his head just slightly and squeezed back, allowing himself to take comfort in the very human gesture.

“We can’t stay here, Spock. We have to find a way to get off planet or bring the shields around the planet down.”

“I agree. Any plans of when, Captain?” With the use of Jim’s formal title, Spock withdrew his hand. The human found himself missing the warmth already.

“Night is best to travel, but we can’t wait another thirteen hours. The moment there’s light, we’ll keep moving.”

“Understood. I will relay your order to the others.” Spock stood, tugging down his shirt as he did so.

Spock turned to leave, but stopped at the sound of Jim’s voice. “And Spock . . . thanks.”

Spock turned around enough to look at the human, a small smile on his lips. “No thanks are necessary, Jim.”

Jim spent another two hours outside their shelter before he joined the rest of them. Uhura was asleep, but his best friends were still awake. McCoy was watching him with a crucial eye, most likely trying to see if he was okay. Spock kept his focus on the communication device, trying to see what could work and what they would need to make it work.

He really loved his crew; still, he couldn’t look either of them in the eyes.

Settling down, he waited another hour for the sun to come up.

 

 

 


	8. The Children Shall Lead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for waiting almost four months to post again. I have literally finished two other stories in between this update and the last. Please forgive me.

 

Dawn eventually did come. However, no one really slept except for Luca, who knew he had to sleep when he could, and Uhura, who had woke constantly from bad dreams. Everyone moved around the camp silently, packing what little they had. Spock managed to condense the four backpacks to two and carried the heavier of the two while Jim carried the other. They were on their way within half an hour.

Before they left however, Kirk gave everyone a list of rules that they had to follow:

  1. Always stay at the minimum of 20 ft away from any area that looks infected.

  2. If you should happen to wonder closer than that, find a place to wash your clothes ASAP.

  3. Stay upwind of the fungus if possible.

  4. Do not eat anything that isn’t in a sealed container unless it’s a last resort.

  5. Anything previously sealed must be eaten within 48 hours.

  6. Most importantly, always be with at least one other person.




Uhura was a bit confused about what was going on, having missed the discussion the previous night. Thankfully, she agreed to the terms and so did McCoy. Jim was slightly concerned that Bones didn’t put up a fight, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

No one commented that the bodies had been missing at sunrise. Sometime during the night when everyone had attempted, not successfully, to get some sleep, Spock had gone out and buried them.

Kirk had protested quietly outside the rock structure. The bodies should have been burned. Any spores they might have inhaled or clung to their clothes would have been burned with the bodies and the smoke would be masked by the night sky and the light obscured by the rocks.

Spock had simply said that with a burial, the bodies could be recovered, identified and returned to their loved ones after decontamination. The human stood down after that, but his anxiety showed afterwards.

There was something he wasn’t telling, that much was obvious. Spock did not push him for more answers though. If it was detrimental to their survival, the captain wouldn’t have given in, so Spock buried the bodies while Kirk kept watch over the camp.

It occurred to Kirk that while no one was particularly well rested, especially after last night, he had not seen Spock rest since they left the ship. He did not bring that fact up. All Spock would say was that Vulcans can function almost two weeks without sleep. Kirk did not doubt that, but he was pretty sure that only held true if he could at least meditate on occasion to do so. Since Spock had been unable to successfully meditate before leaving on this clusterfuck of a mission, chances were he hadn’t done so here.

He had to force the thought from his mind. Spock was still functional for now and changing locations took precedence. The several day trip would take a toll on them with the lack of enough food and fresh water. They would need to save their phasers, so they could start fires or find an alternative method. Nothing could be consumed, water or food, without being sterilized. Saving their phasers as a last resort would decrease their defense dramatically. The phasers pulled off the bandits were extremely low as it was affording them only a few more shots.

Jim chewed on his bottom lip as he thought this. He had been in worse situations on Tarsus, but he didn’t have to worry about following protocol, and he didn’t want the others to see what he had stooped to on Tarsus, how low he had fallen. If worse came to worse, he would do it, but that wasn’t necessary now.

He felt the brush of fabric against his hand. He looked down to see Luca at his side, eyes casted down, but still sticking extremely close to him. Luca had woken once during the night and sought out Jim. Without a word from either of them, Luca slept next to Jim during his watch. Spock raised an eyebrow when he had returned to see the sight before taking up his spot by the fire.

Sometime during their journey around late morning, Jim picked up Luca. The boy wrapped his arms around Jim’s neck and used his shoulder as a pillow, falling asleep. McCoy tried to protest that Jim should take it easy and like usual Jim ignored him. His head was still pounding, but it was more manageable than previously. Since he hadn’t slipped into a coma when he had fallen unconscious, he would be okay. At least that was what he told himself.

They took two half hour breaks by the time noon hit. The sun was bright and already it was exhausting the doctor and Jim a little. Jim was thinking of taking another break when he saw the farmland up ahead.

Upon closer inspection, it was just one large farm with ten other buildings around it. Jim was betting that five of the houses were homes for the farm hands, one was an office or laboratory, and the others were some sort of storage and equipment sheds. It was a good place to look for supplies though chances were that anything useful was long gone. The fields looked like they were either harvested early or raided. Either way, it was a mess. There shouldn’t be anyone in the vicinity as it was probably the first place hit. Still, it would be good practice for the others.

He had set Luca down half an hour back. When he looked down at him, he saw the same calculating gaze flit across those brown eyes. So they were thinking the same thing.

“You’ve done this before?” he asked the kid.

Luca nodded. “That’s how we met, remember?”

Jim nodded handing him one of the phasers that had more power to him, ignoring everyone’s questioning gaze. Luca barely glanced at the object before huffing. With experienced hands, he took off the safety and set it to kill. “I’m not a kid,” he admonished, making Kirk smile a bit.

“I know. Just making sure,” he leaned forward, reaching out to turn the settings back to stun. “But don’t do it unless you have to.”

Jim hated telling the kid that. Absolutely hated it. He felt conflicting emotions roar inside him, fighting one another. His fists clenched though his face kept the same gentle gaze. “Good Starfleet officers only kill as a last resort.”

He felt Spock’s gaze on his back.

Suddenly, McCoy yanked him to the side, causing the captain to stumble a bit. “What is it Bones?” his voice already sounding irritated.

“You’re giving a kid a phaser? Seriously, Jim? This isn’t like you.” The doctor’s eyes were soft and full of worry. While Jim could understand it, he couldn’t accept it.

“Believe me Bones, he isn’t a kid anymore.” He removed the hand wrapped around his elbow. “Besides me, Luca has lived through more than most will live through in several life times. He has knowledge of the land, some combat experience, and survival instincts. If it came down to it, he wouldn’t bat an eye at killing someone if it threatened his survival. Which is why he’s going to lead you and Uhura in the search of supplies in the middle houses, while Spock and I search the outer ones.”

“That’s exactly what I mean, Jim. The kid is traumatized. You’re putting too much responsibility on him. If you put too much pressure on him, he’ll snap.”

Jim laughed humorously. Bones had a psychology degree. In normal circumstances, if they were off this hell hole, he’d probably be right. He would be right if Luca survived this, but until then, he was completely off.

“He won’t snap, Bones. He’s hanging on with nothing but his fingertips. You’re right about that, but if he was going to snap, he would have done so a long time ago, and he wouldn’t have survived ‘til now.”

“You don’t know that, Jim. You don’t know what will send him over the edge.”

Jim glanced back at Luca. “He won’t snap. He has the same look I did back then.” He turned back to his friend. “Stopping him from doing anything will make it worse. There is nothing more frightening then watching your world fall apart around you while you sit around doing nothing. As long as he’s doing something that he think matters, he’ll keep hanging on. Trust me.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. He knew Luca was a good choice to lead the other party. He had observed him while they had been walking. He knew what he was doing. “Alright, we’ll meet back here in an hour. If something happens, do whatever you can to get the other party’s attention. I don’t care what. . . And try to stay alive.” He looked at Luca. “Take care of the doctor and lieutenant for me. They’re kids.”

Uhura glared at him while the Doctor grumbled, but Luca smirked, getting his little message. “Will do, sir.”

Jim returned the smirk. Luca really was a good kid. He would make a fine officer one day. Kind of like. Kevin.

He watched as Luca lead them away, noting his quiet footsteps and looking uncomfortable at his two charges loud approach. The kid knew what he was doing, but there was a chance that he’d abandon McCoy and Uhura if it came to his survival if they could not keep up or threatened his own life. He’d have to show them how to properly walk once they got back.

“C’mon, Spock,” he murmured, heading to the closest house.

Jim entered carefully, searching the entrance for possible traps. Spock followed his lead, his eyes watching Jim’s form and his actions, taking notes. Jim was pleased that Spock was already picking up and employing his habits. As they trekked through the house, the Vulcan’s footsteps became increasingly softer and searched with just as much caution.

The captain wasn’t surprised that almost everything of use had been taken. Any food, extra blankets, and clothes had long since been taken if the light layer of dust had anything to say, but Spock was able to find a few tools and spare parts. The tools were far from ideal: bent, rusted, and mostly useless. However it was better than what they had previously, so they packed them with care in a spare bag.

Jim was carefully searching the floor for any hidden compartments when Spock asked, “Jim . . . about Luca.”

“Are you going to question my decision too?” the human commented, not stopping his careful examination.

“Negative. I also believe that Luca is the best candidate to lead as he is most familiar with the situation.”

“Then what?” Jim asked, placing back a raised floorboard the same way he found it.

“I wish to know why you would insinuate you are not a good Starfleet officer. I am having difficulty understanding why you would refer to yourself as either incompetent or morally incorrect when you are neither.”

Jim stayed crouched, staring at the floorboard he had just replaced. “I am not a good person, Spock. We have discussed this,” he said quietly.

“I understand what you have gone through, Jim, but─”

“You really don’t, Spock. I gave you an outline not the details,” Jim shoved a rusted screwdriver into the pack with more force than necessary.

“I am aware, but the choices you made then, choices made by an adolescent, could not─”

“Spock, just stop!” Jim whispered harshly. “I don’t want to talk about it. Right now, we need to hurry and finish scavenging.”

Spock wanted to press the issue. Jim could see the way his lips thinned and his brows pulled together in thought. In the end, he only replied, “Yes, Captain.”

The rest of the search was spent in silence.

The hour came and went, and Jim and Spock met up with the others with little difficulty. McCoy looked put out when he and his group came back. The kid looked irritated as well. If Jim had to guess, the two got into an argument, and for some reason, the thought made him smile a bit. “You look a little pissed off, Bones.”

“I never thought I’d meet anyone crazier than you,” he grumbled, refusing to look at the child.

Luca just rolled his eyes. “He tried to see if the shower still worked. I kept telling him if there’s going to be a trap it would be the shower.”

The captain nodded in agreement. People were smart enough not to turn on the lights, but they got careless when it came to things like having a chance to take a warm shower. It was a temptation many couldn’t resist after being covered in grim for weeks. “Did you find anything?”

“Just a few miscellaneous things. A few spare parts and blankets with holes,” the doctor grumbled, showing his friend the bag. “No food though.”

“I didn’t think there would be,” he replied honestly. “Spock and I found some tools. Hopefully we can get some of the equipment working.”

“Captain, if we leave now, there is a higher probability of reaching our destination before we break for the evening.” Spock took the extra bag from McCoy, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Are you sure that place is safe?” Uhura asked.

“Yeah,” Jim said, turning to the smallest member of their group. “Want another ride?”

Luca scrunched up his nose, puffing out his chest. “I’m not a kid. I can walk like everyone else.”

Jim tried not to smile as it seemed Luca had already forgotten about earlier that morning. “Sure thing, Luca. Want to carry the water?”

The child’s eyes brightened, and he nodded eagerly and took the canteens.

Once he was sure Luca was settled, they continued on their way.

* * *

 

_“Jim? Are you sure about this?”_

_Jim glanced up at Kevin from his bag, giving him a wide confident smile. “We’ll be okay. You’ll hold down the fort right?”_

_Kevin nodded, shifting foot to foot. “I know but… you’re taking Rochelle…”_

_Jim stopped, swallowing hard. “Rochelle has to come. She’s the only one who knows the camp layouts. This is my first time doing this.”_

_“But Rochelle hasn’t been the same since…”_

_“I know,” Jim said quietly. “Hopefully this will help.” In a brighter tone, he said, “Besides, Jabari will be with me. We’ll be fine. We’ll eat like kings in a few days.”_

_Kevin didn’t look convinced. The young child looked at the ground. “Please be careful.”_

_“Don’t worry, I will. Rochelle will be fine. The other’s have been.”_

_“But she’s older.”_

_Jim winced inwardly. “She’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.” He closed his bag, and gave his full attention to Kevin, placing his hands on the child’s shoulders. “Kevin, I’m trusting you to keep everything together while I’m gone. Take care of the little ones. And tell them the story about my dad’s car for bed time. They like that one.”_

_Kevin’s eyes watered, but he looked determined not to cry. “Okay, Jim.”_

_“Big Brother Jim! Big Brother Jim!” A small girl no older than four ran up to them. She held up a ragged doll. The doll was falling apart at the seams, covered in mud, and missing a beady black eye and half of its yarn hair. “Take Jamie with you.”_

_Jim’s eyes softened. “I can’t take her, Maggie.”_

_“You have to take it, cause I can’t go with you.” The girl with her matted brown locks and dirt covered hands, shoved the doll into his hands._

_“Maggie…” The girl entered a coughing fit, and Jim’s hands tightened around the doll. “I’ll take it. Go lay down. I’ll be back before you know it.” He looked at the young boy. “Kevin?”_

_“Come on Mags, Jim said we could have the berries he found. We can eat them before bed,” Kevin took her small hand and dragged her away. She didn’t protest too much, already swaying on her feet, but she kept looking back at him as they disappeared inside the caves._

_Jim looked at the doll and carefully placed it into his pack. He’d take it, just this once._

* * *

 

_“Alright, Jim. You remember what the layout?” Jabari was one of the older kids. He was a year older than Jim, but he was one of the most loyal out of all the teens Jim picked up. He was dark skinned and had a scar from eye to chin which gave him an intimidating air, but he was extremely kind when he wasn’t trapping soldiers. It was that kindness and that cold hearted efficiency that Jim relied on._

_“Yeah, I remember. Stop drilling me already. I’m ready for this.” He readjusted his bag._

_They fell into silence. Jabari was never much of a talker. He was the tall, dark, and silent type girls went crazy over. Before the whole incident started, Jim never talked to him much, and he had been hesitant to let a teenager into their small group when they had first found him. Well, found by him would have been more appropriate. Jim refused the first time he had been propositioned by Jabari. At the time, Kirk had only three young children with him. He declined, and Jabari said no more, accepting Jim’s choice without hostility._

_But Jim soon found himself drowning once he took additional kids under his wing. He alone was old enough to take the harsher responsibilities and taking care of a two year old and one infant was full time work. He couldn’t leave for long periods of time. He sought out Jabari, gave him unfair conditions, and the teen gracefully accepted them. No argument or whining. When Jim started accepting teenagers, he was an invaluable resource. Truthfully, he thought teens were harder to handle. They didn’t like to listen, and they all thought they should be in charge. Jabari brought them under control with a few words, using his height and intimidating are to its fullest capabilities. Jim never understood why he supported Jim’s rules and leadership, but he was irreplaceable resource of knowledge and power._

_“Be careful.” Jabari slid down the hill and disappeared into the underbrush._

_Jim on the other hand went around the guard camp. His heart was beating out of his chest. He kept his footsteps light as he slowly made his way towards the center of the camp. It was a scouting group, looking for stragglers. A group of ten. While small, they were still armed._

_Jim slipped into the largest tent in the group. The man was sitting at a small table, eating some sort of meat product, dropping bones back onto the plate that still had meat on it. Anger welled up into Jim’s chest at the sight. So much wasted food without a second though. Not even hungry enough to eat the parts he didn’t like. Jim tightened the wire around his hand._

_He snuck up behind the man, his face blank as he readied the wire. His mind whited out as he wrapped the wire around the man’s neck and pulled. The man dropped the plate, clawing at his throat, and then he reached up to try to stab at Jim’s eyes with his fingers. Jim kept his head down and kept his eyes out of his reach though his hair was pulled at._

_Jim kept holding on until the man passed out and held on longer. He made sure he was dead before daring to let go. He tucked the man into bed to buy himself more time in case someone came to check on the higher ranked official, then went through the man’s things. His eyes lit up at the hypos he and food readily available to be stolen. This alone could last them a week if rationed!_

_He found a huge bag to stuff everything into and proceeded to the next tent. The next one was sleeping. Unable to strangle him, he slipped out a knife and slit his throat with a quick flick of his wrist. He stared at the blood in fascination. He never killed anyone like this before. A phaser and a wire, but… the blood felt wet and warm on his hands. It was fascinating. He stared as it drenched the sheets, and the color drained from the dead man's face. The only thing that snapped him out of it was the explosion on the other side of the camp. The noise startled him, and he almost jumped a foot into the air. Cursing himself for losing focus, he skimmed through everything quickly, grabbing anything that was easily accessible and high tailed it out of there._

_He heard yelling and cursing and when he left through the back, he saw the fire blazing. All the guards were rushing to it, allowing him a quick escape. He wondered what went wrong. Jabari set up the distractions if they had to leave in a hurry._

_Jim ran, dashing through the woods to the meeting point. It wasn’t as much food as they hoped, but he got what he wanted. The hypos! They finally had hypos! He didn’t get to look through them, but that was fine. Anything was fine._

_Their meeting point was an hour away. Jim ran the first fifteen minutes. While he could run the entire time, he didn’t want to waste energy. He had been tiring out easily lately, but with this haul, they could eat well for the first time in a while._

_He grinned when he saw Jabari waiting for him. “Glad to see you made it.”_

_Jabari was frowning, which wasn’t a good thing. Very few things could make him frown. “What happened,” Jim asked, dropping his smile. “And hurry up. The moment Rochelle get’s here, we’re out of here.”_

_Jabari shook his head. “Rochelle isn’t coming.”_

_Jim grew stiff.”What happened?”_

_“She distracted the guards as planned but….”_

_Jim closed his eyes. “She broke.”_

_“Yeah,” he said quietly.”She took him out…then herself.”_

_“Dammit,” he whispered. “I thought she was getting better. I thought doing this with us would get her mind off this.”_

_“Jim─”_

_“Let’s get out of here,” he cut off his right hand man. He was tired. He’d already been gone for two days. Two more days, and he’d be with his kids again._

* * *

 

_Jabari didn’t say another word the entire way back which Jim was grateful for. All he could think about was getting back as soon as possible. Nothing else seemed to matter as he pushed his body to go past its limits. He didn’t even touch the food until the caves came into view._

_“I’m back!” Jim announced, already handing out food. “Anyone sick, come line up. I got hypos.”_

_He didn’t smile as he usually did as he passed out the food, but no one commented on it. No one mentioned Rochelle’s disappearance either. It was one of the first things everyone learned._

_“Hey, can someone bring Maggie. I got a hypo for her,” he took out her doll while he was at it._

_Kevin swallowed hard. “Maggie passed away this morning. Her and the baby.”_

_Jim face darkened as he shoved the powered milk back into the bag._

_“I’m sorry Jim. I did my best. I gave her the good food…more than I should have, but she started twitching everywhere and I couldn’t get her to stop, and then she stopped breathing. I didn’t know what to do.”_

_“Kevin,” Jim said softly but didn’t look at him.”You did your best. It’s not your fault.” Jim placed a plate into his hands. “Eat up.”_

_The boy gave him worried looks, but Jim waved him off. Everyone ate huddled around the fire. Jim wasn’t hungry. He went outside to keep watch. How were the stars the same when everything underneath them had gone to hell?_

_He felt someone sit beside him, and a plate nudging his side which he tried to ignore. “You need to eat,” Jabari said, his low voice had a soothing effect on his nerves._

_“I’m not hungry.” He looked at the doll in his hands. Maggie’s name was still written on the frayed dress in large, clumsy handwriting._

_“Jim. It was not your fault.”_

_“It was. I pushed back our trip three days. If I didn’t, we would have made it here on time.”_

_“Jim. She was in the late stages of whatever she had. There was no guarantee the medicine would work, and you had to push it back due to the storm.”_

_It didn’t make him feel better. Maggie was the bright one, the one eager to help, who started to break through Jim’s shell. She was a soft spot. And he had failed her._

_“Rochelle wasn’t your fault either.”_

_Jim sneered. “Drop it.”_

_“Rochelle wasn’t the first one. The kids who were used by the guards like she had been, they are more resilient. They bounced back faster and adjusted faster. They aren’t completely all right, but they’re going. The teens in the same situation aren’t so lucky. Greg and Laurel hadn’t been able to handle the shit that happened to them either. For them, death was easier than living.”_

_“Great, so I’m useless. Whoopedy fucking do.”_

_“Jim, you are the best thing that happened to these kids. You’re a natural leader.” Jabari unwrapped the meat on his plate._

_“Bullshit. Look what I’ve done!”_

_“Yes, look what you did,” his voice keeping its soft even tones. “You brought all the kids together, picked up those being used for sex or those whose parents had died or abandoned them. You organized them, you keep them fed, and you offer them protection. Without you, they would all be dead or still being passed around from soldier to soldier in that disgusting ring of rapists.”_

_A laugh bubbled up before he could stop it. “You know, you should be the leader. You’re more level headed than me.”_

_The older boy shook his head. “The kids adore you, and you shelter them when you can. Dirty your hands so they don’t have too. They do know, and they appreciate it. That’s why they always try to help instead of whine and complain. They look up to you.”_

_Jim shook his head, chuckling but fell flat by the obvious self-loathing in his next words, “You know, it’s a shame. If the circumstances were different, and there were more girls our age, you totally would have gotten lucky.”_

_Jabari shook his head lightly. “No, I wouldn’t have.”_

_Jim laughed, this time for real and elbowing the other teen's side. “Come on. The girls were throwing themselves at you even with me there. With that new scar, when we go home, you’ll be beating them off with a stick.”_

_Jabari smiled, something that was few and rare. “That would never happen for me.”_

_“Why not?” Jim asked curiously. He couldn’t think of any reason why Jabari wouldn’t be able to get the girl of his dreams._

_“Because I’m gay,” he said gently._

_Jim stared back as it clicked. “Oh.. . Ooooooh.”_

_Jabari laughed. “Don’t worry about it.” He placed the plate in Jim’s lap again. “Eat.”_

_Jim sighed, knowing Jabari wouldn’t leave until he ate. “Fine. I’ll eat.” He picked at the meat. He just so happened to glance up, when he saw the blood on Jabari’s sleeve. “You should take an antibiotic.”_

_“It’s a small cut. Let the children have it. Medicine is scarce as it is.”_

_He couldn’t argue with that. Not when he often did the same. “If it gets infected, take something.”_

_“Of course, Jim.” Jim went back to his plate. Unexpectedly, Jabari leaned down and kissed his cheek. He looked up with shock as the older teen pulled back. “Goodnight, Jim.”_

_Jabari went back to the camp, leaving Jim alone. He stayed outside for another hour. Having calmed down a little, he returned getting ready for bed. As he climbed into bed, he heard the soft whimpering of one of the children, gaining a tired sigh from him already moving over to prepare for the inevitable guest in his makeshift bed. Being an adult never ended._

* * *

 

“Jim you should sleep,” Spock said by the fire.

Jim snorted, stretching out on the ground. “Take your own advice. When’s the last time you slept again?” No answer. “Exactly.”

“Jim, Vulcan’s are capable of going─”

“Without sleep for 2 weeks under stressful conditions,” Jim finished, smirking at the eyebrow raise. “Come on, Spock. You aren’t even meditating. I can handle tonight’s shift.”

“You are in need of rest,” Spock stood up, walking over to his side.

“Can’t sleep.” Jim sat up. McCoy, Luca, and Uhura were all in a restless sleep, but at least they were sleeping. “Won’t be able to for a while.”

An awkward silence filled between them. It stretched and the tension built until Spock spoke. “Are you doing better, Jim?”

It was hard not to throw a sarcastic, bitter remark back at the Vulcan. Instead, he inhaled slowly and didn’t answer.

Spock went quiet again, and the air of uneasiness permeated.

A soft whine came from Luca, followed by a moan. The young boy curled up onto his side, whimpering as he shook.

Jim was at his side in a second, settling down next to the boy in the make shift bed of leaves and blankets, taking the kid into his arms and rubbing his back with practiced ease. “Shh.”

Luca’s whimpers died down to the occasional sigh, and he wrapped his arms around the captain as he settled into a deeper sleep.

“I did not expect you to excel in caring for adolescents.” Spock said, watching as his captain’s hardened features softened as he looked at Luca.

“When I was on Tarsus,” he cleared his throat when it cracked. “When I was on Tarsus, I took care of a group of kids. They had a lot of nightmares.”

He could see Spock turning the image over in his head analyzing it. For what, Kirk had no idea. “I have noted you are more relaxed when Luca is present.”

“Jealous Spock,” he teased, brushing the child’s hair down. With a more serious expression, he relaxed against the cave wall. “You’re right. Luca reminds me of my kids. If it weren’t for them, I don’t think I’d have bothered to keep going.” His eyes closed. Memories danced across his eyelids. “Most of them died. I can’t even remember any of their faces but the one I kept in contact with. They’re just some faceless people who haunt my nightmares.” He couldn’t remember Maggie’s sweet smile, Jabari’s stern expression, or Rochelle’s beautiful gaze. The kid’s he rescued eventually lost touch with him, and the ones who passed were fading from his memory. How could he allow either to happen?

“And who held you during your nightmares?”

Jim’s smile told Spock everything. He didn’t allow himself that comfort on Tarsus or when he got off it. Tarsus he had people depending on him, at home, Frank wasn’t going to and his mother had been gone for most of his life and didn’t know anything about him. Even if she had, he wasn’t the same person who had left with his Aunt Joanna. No one could understand him unless they had lived through that hell as he had.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jim said, placing Luca back into his bed. He waited to make sure it was okay for him to leave before moving. “Nightmares are just dreams. I can handle that.”

Jim’s eyes grew heavy as he watched Luca. Maybe the hike took more out of him then he realized.

Spock waited until Jim was asleep before putting his fingers to Jim’s psi points. “Then allow me to keep your nightmares at bay,” he whispered, settling Jim’s overactive mind with peace and dreams of being back on the _Enterprise_ with his first officer beside him.


	9. Internal War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... Sorry for the long update but at least it wasn't four months this time. I worked on it for three weeks. Disappointed it wasn't longer.

"You need to stop doing that mind voodoo shit without his permission."

Spock stilled at the sudden voice in the darkness. Languidly, he withdrew his hand, resting it at his side. He peered at McCoy then casually stood up and returned to his spot where he was previously trying to meditate, keeping his eyes down the entire time.

"If you have something to say hobgoblin then say it." McCoy turned in his makeshift bed, propping his head up on one hand, facing Spock expectantly. He had his usual scowl, but sleep had softened it. When Spock didn't say anything, he considered letting it go. It was late and the previous day's journey had him aching everywhere not to mention the bone deep fatigue, but he knew if he didn't get it out of the Vulcan now, it was never going to come up. "Well? I don't have all night."

Spock kept his steady gaze on a boulder in front of him. It didn't seem like he was going to budge when Uhura spoke up from her small bed, "It's okay, Spock. We're here to help."

Spock glanced at his former girlfriend. She had sat up and was staring at him with a patience she hadn't quite shown to that extent during their courtship. If anything, the kind gaze had him looking away from her as he answered, "I do not know how else to help him." Those simple words had even McCoy dropping his scowl.

"I'm worried about him too," the doctor admitted in a low, almost inaudible voice. He turned his attention to Jim who still slept peacefully. If not for the meld, the captain would probably have woken to their voices already. Jim was a notoriously light sleeper, like if he didn't awaken to the slightest sound it would cost him his life. In hindsight, that was probably exactly why.

"I suggest, Doctor, that you rest while it is permissible. It is highly likely that tomorrow's activities will be as physically intensive as today.

McCoy's scowl retuned, and he grumbled under his breath about bossy Vulcans which Spock politely ignored, settling into preparation for meditation. Spock closed his eyes, attempting to breach the first layer of meditation when a soft slender hand touched his shoulder.

He took reassurance from the small gesture, one she did not make often in respect to his Vulcan heritage. But in this case, there were no words that could adequately reassure him.

Uhura sat next to him as he meditated, falling asleep against him at some part in the night. Spock didn't notice as he finally fell into a light sleep, thinking of Jim.

* * *

The captain woke to the sunlight streaming through the cave entrance. His eyes fluttered open, a soft smile on his lips until he started to recall where he was. The smile fell. It was peculiar. He was almost certain that he would have suffered some sort of nightmare. It was why he was never eager to sleep, despite his body feeling exhausted from their journey. He had mentally steeled himself for it too, planning to ignore the hurt and fear it brought until he could deal with it in a more convenient time.

Instead, he dreamt of his ship, his shenanigans on Earth, and of shore leaves, and for a moment, he had forgotten about the danger that awaited him when he woke, of the people he was responsible for. That was dangerous. He couldn't let that happen again.

Carefully, he untangled himself from Luca who was still sound asleep and gripping onto him for dear life. Jim expertly removed those hands without waking him, and made his way to the entrance of the cave.

These set of caves were located at the bottom of a dried river bed that now formed a canyon. The cave system was deep and complex running through the plateaus for miles. The reason Jim thought to bring everyone here and knew it would be relatively safe was because the natives used to live in these caves. Despite the breakdown of the colony, the colonist still felt guilt over what happened. Maybe not consciously, but they wouldn't go out of their way to see the dead bodies that had been rotting out in the sun to remind them of that.

Spock and Jim had gone on ahead the previous day to scout out the area. As Jim had suspected, nothing had been touched since the massacre. Getting to work, they moved the bodies out of the cave they now inhabited and cleared the way before their companions joined them. Despite Spock's quiet protest, they did not bury the bodies. Two hours before their small company joined up again, they burned half the bodies, using the cliffs to hide most of the smoke.

The other half, they spread around the perimeter. The corpses were half rotten; some even had small animals living in the rib cages. It was a health hazard to not bury or burn them, but the reminder was needed to be there to ward off intruders. They were placed far away enough not to fill the air of their dwelling with the putrid smell of death, though it did linger throughout the night.

McCoy did mention the lingering smell, asking what had died in his usual gruff voice. When Jim didn't answer with a sarcastic remark and saw the remains of the civilization that used to live there, the doctor put two and two together. He didn't make another remark about the smell again.

They had moved into a previous living unit, equipped with a hole in the rocky ceiling to ventilate smoke, a cloth door, animal skins covering the floor, and a few cave paintings drawn on the wall. The natives lived a simple life, similar to the ways of the Native Americans back on Earth, even though they had their own written language, government, and had even figured out space travel. They were knowledgeable about the universe, about other alien species, but chose to live off the land and stay on planet.

The natives were a kind race and were more than willing to share what they had with the colonists. Jim couldn't help the macabre thought that he bet the locals regretted that decision now. If there were any left that was.

Jim stepped through the cloth door, taking in the early morning light. Thankfully, they were upwind, so there was nothing but sweet, fresh, crisp air. It was a little chilly, but the sun's rays were quickly warming the rocks. Jim let a small smile grace his lips and stretched, letting his shirt rise. For now, he would enjoy this second. Just this second, then he'd return to reality.

"I take it you slept well, Captain."

Jim's smile stretched a little wider at the low, smooth voice behind him. "Best sleep I've gotten since we landed here. If I knew all this would have happened, I would have slept before we left." He turned to face Spock.

A strange look was on Spock's face, one he didn't recognize and his smile dropped and became one of worry. "Are you okay?"

"I am adequate, Jim," his voice sounded deeper. "I am gratified that you slept undisturbed."

He chuckled, turning his eyes away, back to the scenic view. "I'm just glad you look like you got some sleep. Was worried you were going to pass out on me."

Spock only raised an eyebrow, causing Jim to laugh even though he wasn't directly looking at him. "Seriously though, I'm glad. I was worried." He chuckled again. "Though not as worried as McCoy is. I think he draped a blanket over me last night. Talk about mother henning right?"

Another strange look crossed Spock's face. "What?"

"Nothing Jim. I am just contemplating our options."

"Right . . . of course." Jim cast his eyes down to his feet. "So what have you come up with?"

"We have two options, Captain. We can attempt to stay in this location, allowing a rescue team to have fewer difficulties in retrieving us, should they stage a rescue mission, or we can continue traveling. I do not have the experience you have in this situation, so I am unable to offer any valid advice at this moment."

The captain unconsciously chewed on his bottom lip as he thought. Staying here gave them shelter, a point to return to if they were ever separated, and most importantly, stability. However, the longer they stayed, the more traces they would leave, showing that there were people heading this way often back to the ravine anytime they left to scout for supplies, and there was no guarantee the guilt would keep the few survivors away for much longer. It had already been a couple weeks at the least. The more dire the circumstances became, there would be no such thing as guilt. Only survival. But continuous travel could wear them down. In the long run, it could save them. It was harder to be tracked, and it helped knowing just what was out there and if there was a better place to set up camp for a while. While this place was nice, too many people knew about it.

"We'll stay here for a few days. We'll see about the situation then." He finally said, letting a small irritated sound escape him as he exhaled. "We'll need to look for food though. Luca and I will do that once night hits. Until then, I guess we can search around and see what's available."

"Yes, Captain."

"Great," he replied half heartedly. "I'll get breakfast started."

Spock watched the human go back into their shelter. Perhaps he should not have grabbed the man's attention. When Spock had followed Jim outside, he had meant to ascertain his health. So he called out to him. That train of thought left as did any other thought when he turned around. The human's hair practically glowed under the early dawn light, his blue eyes that had been clouded, clear and bright, and for a moment, all the Vulcan could do was appreciate how aesthetically pleasing he was.

When Jim's smile turned into a frown, he snapped out of his trance. To see Jim almost back to normal erased most of the guilt he felt for intruding on his thoughts to influence his dreams. Jim's laugh and his easy going personality, Spock found he missed and craved it the past few days.

It didn't last. With Spock's vague reply, he implied the problem at hand, and Jim fell back into his shell, out of reach from Spock's grasp. Jim closed himself off from the world again, the worry setting back into his features as he thought about their next step.

Logically, Spock knew the topic could not be avoided. It was Jim's duty to worry and take charge of the situation. Added to the fact that Jim had the most experience about their current situation, it was logical to let Jim take the lead throughout the mission. And yet, he wanted to spare Jim the pain of reliving his worst nightmare again.

The scent of death was still in the air. Spock could smell it, and his telepathy picked up the ghosts that lingered. The hatred, the pain, the fear from both colonists and natives alike who died on the land they now took shelter in. Being a strong telepath was trying at times, and the miasma of misfortune that had befallen the land had proved difficult to ignore. He could only be grateful that he was only a touch telepath and nothing more. He was not certain if he would be able to keep his Vulcan principles if that were not the case.

Quietly, he ducked back into their shelter. Jim was already digging through the bags, deciding on how to ration their food, and what should be eaten immediately. He didn't glance up at Spock's entrance, though he was aware that the Vulcan had come back inside.

McCoy had awoken as well, rubbing his eyes with one hand as he yawned, looking around blurrily. Uhura was also awake, sitting next to Luca and talking amongst themselves quietly. Besides Jim, Luca was only semi comfortable with Uhura. Given Jim's words from before, Spock had an idea why the child would prefer Uhura's company to the doctor's and his. He could not however understand why anyone would harm a child, even with the current conditions.

"Hey, Jim!" Luca bounded over to the captain. "We going out today?"

Jim looked up, his troubled look easing at the sight of the boy. "Yeah," he said gently. "Just some recon."

"I know the nearby area. My parents used to come to talk to the guys who used to live here…" the child's words faltered, and his eyes glazed over at the memory of his parents.

"Would you like to come with me?" Jim asked as if he hadn't noticed. Spock watched Luca give Jim a shy smile then sit next to the man. Jim picked the child up, placing him on his lap. "Good. Know how to make a sailor's knot?" At the shake of Luca's head, Jim began showing him different types of knots, using a piece of rope he had found lying around.

Spock sat to the side watching them. Jim was so at ease with Luca. He wasn't loud and cocky like he generally liked to give off. With Luca, he was more reserved, calm, and patient. The same way Jim was during their chess games after a particularly difficult mission. The same way Jim had acted during their last chess game.

"If you keep looking like that, someone might mistake you for being jealous," McCoy said, sitting next to Spock. With Spock's silence, McCoy actually laughed softly, gaining the Vulcan's attention. The middle aged doctor looked tired, despite sleeping most of the night. Already, dark bags were forming underneath his eyes, and his usual gruff demeanor was lacking. "Still, never thought I'd see the kid, act like a dad."

"Luca's presence is fortunate. Jim has been more agreeable by 26.85 percent since he has joined our party."

"But it's not you he's relyin' on, so you're jealous."

Spock's lips thinned.

"Don't give me that, you irritating hobgoblin. Just admit you're jealous 'cause Jim hasn't been leaning only on you these past couple of days."

"It is illogical to be envious of a small child who has suffered misfortune and seeks comfort with the only being who can relate to his experience." Spock said quietly, watching as Luca showed Jim his knot.

"Well emotions ain't logical, and you didn't deny it."

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"He's right you know." Uhura said quietly, sitting on Spock's left. "It's only natural you'd be jealous. Kirk's always been by your side since Nero. It only took a month into our mission before you two were joined at the hip."

"Jim and I are and have never been fused together," Spock said matter of factly.

McCoy just rolled his eyes. "I can never tell if your serious or not. You'd think with a human mother, you'd have heard about metaphors."

"My mother rarely used such exaggeration or comparisons you are so fond of doctor. She was a sensible woman." Spock replied stiffly.

Uhura sighed. Only Jim was ever allowed to talk to Spock about his mother. Ironic since Jim was the only one to use her name to insult Spock, but just like everything else, he managed to coerce Spock into talking to about her somehow. The reason she knew was because a few days before their breakup, she had overheard the end conversation of her two commanding officers conversation.

They had been in an empty rec room, cups of tea between them with their chess game long forgotten. At the moment of her entrance, she had seen Jim lean forward, placing a hand on Spock's shoulder. Quietly, he said, "She would have been proud, Spock."

She didn't have to ask who she was. The pure vulnerability in Spock's eyes was more than enough to clarify. Spock didn't shy away from the human's touch either. Instead he answered with an equally quiet, "I am aware."

Uhura knew at that moment, that she wouldn't be able to win against the captain when it came to Spock's affection. Spock never showed vulnerability to anyone, even with her. He would never speak to her about the destruction of Vulcan, of the death of his mother. While Spock wasn't aware of it himself, she could tell by the way Spock looked at Jim a moment later that the Vulcan was in love. Of course, Spock spent the next few days avoiding Jim like the plague, but soon enough, they were once again each other's shadow.

It was inevitable when Spock came to break things off soon after. It hurt of course, and she still had feelings for the man sitting beside her, but part of being in love was wanting that person to be happy. She had let him go.

Still, it was amusing to watch a Vulcan, specifically Spock, struggle with his love life. He was never nervous or unsure while dating her, but with Jim he was a Vulcan equivalent of a love struck fool. It was amazing that Kirk was so clueless when it came to Spock's feelings. Even Doctor McCoy figured it out and he tried to avoid everyone's love life like his life depended on it. If Spock hadn't made her promise not to tell Jim, she would have in a heartbeat.

"Well Spock, you can easily get Jim's attention if you tell him," she offered.

"I agree. You can take him just outside there and tell him," McCoy crossed his arms, daring Spock to disagree.

To Spock's credit, he didn't play dumb and asked to what they were referring to, however, "I do not wish to burden the captain with any unnecessary information."

Both the humans groaned aloud.

"Your bones aren't the only thing that's dense," the doctor snapped. "You either tell Jim or I will."

Spock opened his mouth to retort, brows furrowed just slightly to indicate his annoyance with the conversation, when Jim popped up in front of them, causing the other two humans to jump in surprise. "I hope you guys aren't planning a mutiny over here with all the whispering." It was said playfully, but Spock felt there was a warning in his words.

He apparently was the only one to notice as Uhura answered casually, "Not at all Captain. Just teasing Spock. You know, seeing if there's anyone he's got his eye on in particular."

Jim smirked, turning his gaze onto Spock. "Is that so? Well Spock, spill the juicy details."

"What details, Jim? He spends all his time lookin' out for your sorry ass, you'd think he was desperately in love with you or somethin'."

Spock sent a Vulcan glare at McCoy, which Jim missed, too busy laughing to have seen it. "Which is why he's the best first officer in the fleet. Can't live without him."

McCoy sent Spock a "you owe me" look. Casually, he got up to get himself his breakfast ration, muttering to himself about emotionally stunted children.

"Just came over to let you know, Luca and I will be heading out to take a look around now. We'll leave the phasers with you."

Uhura sent a look at Spock then got up to join the doctor, making Spock thankful that she decided not to hint at anything else. "Captain, I respectfully request to join you and Luca on your recon."

"Spock," he started. From the sound of his voice, Spock knew Jim wanted to turn him down and was already tired of the argument before it began.

"Jim," Spock said, "If there is trouble, which with you the probability of it is very high, it will be easier to protect Luca if there are two of us. One could be the distraction while the other leads Luca away from the danger."

Jim cursed under his breath. "It's not fair to use my name when you want something you know."

A loud sigh later and he agreed. While it was probably underhanded to use Luca in his plan, Jim was a bit relieved Spock was coming. He didn't want to think why that was. It was a weakness. Just like Luca was a weakness. One he couldn't wean himself off of. Not back then and not now.

Breakfast passed with minimal fuss. The portions were smaller which no one commented on. Luca was just happy to get something into his stomach, and Uhura kept up conversation by asking Spock questions about High Vulcan and pulling Jim into practicing with her which obviously led to annoyed outbursts from McCoy.

It felt normal which made it feel wrong. Jim found himself forcing his smiles, and found his smile strained the longer the façade of normalcy continued. It was wrong. The evidence was sitting right in front of them. The meal was barely going to take the edge off the hunger, and the amount of rations left would only give them five more days of food if carefully distributed. They had no idea when help was going to come. They had to plan for the long term yet they were sitting there, talking like they were still aboard the _Enterprise_.

A part of him realized the dark panic winding its way into his gut was from the part of him that was a Tarsus survivor. The part of him that would do anything to survive and have no guilt about it. He knew it was different now. That his ship knew he was trapped down on the planet. That he was better prepared from all his previous experiences. But he couldn't shake it.

What was he doing? A good dream? He didn't deserve such luxury. It made him too relaxed. He had actually felt complacent when he woke, and that was the most dangerous of all. He needed the nightmares. How else was he to remember why he did the things he did?

"Captain, are you well?"

Jim's head snapped up to see Spock looking at his hand. He followed his gaze to see his hand was clenched so hard, it was shaking, the nails digging into the tender flesh of his palms.

He loosened his grip, sending Spock a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. Just lost in thought. We should get ready to head out. Sooner we stake things out the better."

Spock didn't look convinced, spending the next fifteen minutes watching him. Kirk made sure to come out as nothing but normal. It probably alerted Spock that there actually was something wrong, but it wasn't something he wanted to think too much about. Instead, he focused on preparing for their short trip. He packed several bottles of water, an empty sack, a spare rope, a knife, and a phaser. It wasn't much, but they were definitely essential if they ran into trouble.

Before they left, Jim took off his gold Starfleet shirt and made Spock do the same. When questioned why, he just shrugged, but still expected for Spock comply with the order.

Once set, the three of them left the cave. Luca was their guide, Spock was mapping out the terrain, comparing the scans they had looked over on the ship with what they found, and Jim took the rear, keeping an eye out for danger.

The ravine ran about a mile until it opened up into a grassland with the sea just off into the horizon. There were little to no trees and very little cover. There was one rock formation off into the distance where a large group of the planet's native predators, a reptile with a body type and eyes of a cat but the size of a wolf, lay sun bathing. It was still early in the morning, so they weren't much of a concern as long as they kept their distance.

The purple-green grass, rustled under their feet, drawing the attention of a few other animals, one being an oversized bird standing taller than 10 feet tall with turquoise feathers, and poisonous talons that could actually fly. Luca fell back, staying glued to Jim's side as they passed it. Spock on the other hand looked intrigued, studying the creature with obvious fascination and scientific interest.

Jim couldn't help but smile, wishing he could give him a working tricorder. He loved watching Spock work, and loved even more to listen when Spock talked about a new discovery. He spoke with such enthusiasm (though Spock would deny it), letting very little stop him in his lecture/report in short of an emergency or another experiment.

As they continued walking they noticed and found a few things. A mineral deposit, including large quantities of sulfur, quarts, and salt, which was useful if they had to resort to hunting, a stream of clean water that eventually led to the sea, and to Jim's surprise─

"Flint?"

"Did you not use it during your predicament?" Spock asked.

Jim shook his head, looking at the two rocks. "The colony was well equipped with phasers because there were a lot of predators around. There were a lot of secret government labs too so we had a lot of security as well. Never had to resort looking for other methods to start a fire. If we were running low on power packs or a phaser broke, I'd just . . ." He trailed off, realizing what he was admitting to then looked away. Luca looked up expectantly, clearly knowing where he was going with it and seeing nothing wrong with it. That just made it all the harder to continue. "Anyway, that'll help us save our power packs at least. We should find some wood while we're out here too."

"There are more trees twenty three degrees to the east."

"Lead the way, Commander," the human gestured with a wave of his hand.

Spock took point, easily taking Luca's place as guide as the boy had gone back to staring at the bird like creature that seemed to be stalking them at a distance. Jim really hoped that thing really didn't eat meat. Then again, maybe it'd taste like chicken. What he wouldn't give for a chicken sandwhich.

The patch of trees was mostly a small cluster of conifers, and sadly not many fallen branches. With a quick discussion, they decided to pull off any loose branches they could find. While Spock and Jim pulled off the loose branches, Luca searched the ground for whatever he could find.

At some point, Kirk found himself away from the others, doing his job mindlessly as he thought over the food situation. He'd rather not eat from live animals. They could be contaminated with the fungus, though it was a good sign that this area was still so full of life. It meant the fungus hadn't taken serious root yet, and they hadn't seen any dead or sick animals either. Even if they did hunt, they'd still have to worry about Spock. He knew being vegetarian was a choice by the Vulcan people to respect every living thing as the teaching of Surak taught them, especially since there was more than enough food to go around without resorting to raising animals for that purpose, but that also meant Spock probably never had meat before. He didn't know if Spock would get sick eating it or if his body would adapt to it if he did. Could Spock make his body produce the enzymes needed to digest it? There were questions he would have to ask, and he didn't want to be put in a situation where he would have to force Spock to stray from his beliefs. But he might not have a choice.

He wandered further away, sliding down a steep hill, barely making a sound to reach a few berry bushes. He recognized them in the report and knew they were edible. He inspected them carefully. He didn't see any signs of infection, and if there was, he would be okay eating them. He wasn't sure about anyone else. It could help the others build up immunity . . . or it could kill them. He decided to pick a handful.

As he was picking, putting them into a small sack, he heard the bushes rustle behind him. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He stayed squatted, moving towards the sound, feeling the adrenaline rush through him. Turning, he pulled back the bushes.

There was another slope, leading about a meter down just behind them. Below was another cluster of berry bushes, where a man, his back towards Jim, kneeled in front of them, eagerly shoving the berries into his mouth. Anything that fell to the ground, he quickly picked up and shoved back into his mouth, barely chewing the food before shoving in more. He didn't seem to care about ripeness as he grabbed them off by the handfuls, cutting his hands as they roughly ripped off the berries, adding a few leaves into the mix and not caring.

Jim stared at him calmly with an intense gaze. Without looking away, his hand automatically grabbed the phaser and took aim.

As his finger tightened around the trigger, a strong familiar hand, grasped his tightly, stopping him from firing the weapon.

"Spock, let go," he whispered harshly, still staring at the man.

"For what purpose?" He replied. "Why are you attempting to fire at a Starfleet officer?"

The question took time to penetrate Jim's consciousness. When it did, he finally really looked at the man below. Sure enough, he was wearing the grey dress uniform. The uniform was almost brown with the amount of dirt and grime it had accumulated and ripped in several places, but sure enough it was an officer's uniform.

Spock carefully pried the phaser out his hand, making Jim scowl, but he did not put up a fight for it.

Spock stood, righting his shirt, then called out to the man. "Commadore?"

The man below twisted around, falling over onto his butt in the process, scooting away from them. His eyes were wide with alarm, full of fear. "Stay back. Stay away."

"Commadore, we wish you no harm. I am Commander Spock from the USS Enterprise."

Kirk waited to be introduced, but it never came. He glanced up at Spock, whose focus was still on the Commadore.

"The Enterprise?" The man mumbled, watching them like an animal about to flee.

"We have come to assist with the situation on this colony. However, the situation was worse off than we had predicted."

"You're here for a rescue?" The man leaned forward.

"We are out of contact with our ship, however, Starfleet is aware we planet side and the Enterprise should receive assistance in the near future."

Jim backed away from the ledge, so he could stand without being seen. He saw Luca standing on the landing above, eyes narrowed at the new adult as well. He couldn't blame the kid.

Spock went down the slope to retrieve the commodore, and Jim watched, not offering assistance or making his presence known. His right hand twitched. He wanted his phaser back. Wanted it back so much it was starting to make his hand feel hot. His mouth felt dry as the commodore came into view.

The commodore froze with the sight of him. Tentatively the man smiled. "You must be Captain Kirk."

Not able to trust his voice, Jim nodded.

Spock reappeared beside the commodore, glancing at the both of them before asking, "Is there anyone waiting for your return?"

"No. I'm alone."

Kirk's eyes narrowed. "The entire time?"

The man nodded once again. "Yeah. Um, I should introduce myself. I am Commodore Decker."

"Decker," Kirk greeted, ignoring the frown the appeared on the man's face. "Spock, we should head back."

"Indeed." Spock turned to Decker. "This way, Commodore."

Jim froze in his spot. Of course Spock invited him back. It was their job to go out and rescue the people on this planet.

"Captain?"

"It's nothing. Take the lead, Commander. I'll watch the rear." Spock stood rooted in his spot for approximately three seconds before following the order. The commodore followed behind him, and Luca joined them once they climbed the second slope, taking his position beside Kirk.

"We shouldn't let more adults join," Luca whispered, watching the commodore with intensity.

Jim watched as well, staring at the slightly hunched shoulders, the too thin frame that made the dress uniform look baggy, and tired yet wild hazel eyes. His grip on Luca's hand tightened. "Yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the mess at the end. I was writing around 4 am and I had to go to work before I finished editing it.


	10. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally didn't predict all this flash back stuff when I started writing this story. My bad. Also need a beta. Until then, you have to put up with my bad self-editing skills.

Jim never took his eyes off the commodore. Even as the commodore, devoured a few cans of food from their stash with almost animalistic haste. McCoy tried to convince the starving man to not eat so much so fast. His warning was half heeded as Decker slowed to a more human past, but still barely chewed anything he put in his mouth. It took everything Jim had not to snatch the food away. It was their stash. They barely had enough as it was. He bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood multiple times to keep himself from staying anything about it.

Spock gave him speculative glances every now and then which annoyed the already agitated captain further. Luca wasn’t fairing any better. The young boy had barely left Jim’s side since the commodore joined their group. When Decker had tried to shake the boy’s hand, Jim found himself standing in front of the child, fighting back a growl as he redirected his attention with a few questions. Decker answered very little of them, either avoiding the questions entirely or answering without giving much information.

It wasn’t night yet, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He stood abruptly, drawing everyone’s attention as he muttered under his breath, “Luca and I are going to scavenge for food.” He didn’t wait for acknowledgement. He moved to the back of the cave, shoving some things he would need in a sack. He decided to take one of the backpacks. Even if they didn’t find food, there was one thing he wanted to collect while they were out.

He felt him approaching before actually hearing him. Jim muttered some instructions to Luca and the child nodded before Spock spoke. “I was under the impression you were going to wait until nightfall before scavenging for food.”

“I was,” he replied with a clipped tone.

“You changed your mind.”

Jim took a deep breath, knowing that Spock was trying to ask what was wrong. “Spock…” he checked to make sure they were far away enough from the others before continuing. His gaze landed on the commodore, before he ripped it away. “Are we doing the right thing?”

Spock had followed his gaze, and replied quietly, “It is our duty to rescue the survivors. He is also a Starfleet officer and our commanding officer.”

“But is it really the right thing?”

Spock was silent, letting Jim know he was giving the question serious thought before replying, “Yes.”

Beside him, Jim caught Luca giving him a look of understanding. Frustration gripped his chest followed by a wave of anger. He picked up the bag and turned his back to Spock. “Keep them safe.”

“Captain, I insist that I─”

“Keep. Them. Safe.”

He didn’t wait for a response. He didn’t want to hear Spock say his name to try to change his mind or see Spock look at him with those eyes. He couldn’t be swayed. He couldn’t afford to if he wanted to protect them. They could never understand, and he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted them to.

Luca and Jim made their way through the canyon towards the plains. The sun was still going down and the temperature was quickly cooling thankfully. A small hand grabbed the larger one, and they walked in silence for a short while.

Jim was letting his mind clear, not letting memories and doubts cloud his thinking as he prepared for the hunt.

“Jim, do you love Mr. Spock?”’

The only sound the next few minutes was the quiet footfalls echoing off the canyon walls. “Why do you ask?” Jim asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Even after everything that’s happened to us, you still trust him the most.” The grip on Jim’s hand tightened.

“I still trust Dr. McCoy and Ms. Uhura too.”

The young boy shook his head slowly. “Not like Mr. Spock. You treat the others like little kids. You don’t expect them to understand anything. So you don’t get mad when they don’t. But you’re always asking for Mr. Spock’s opinions. And you’re always angry and frustrated when he doesn’t get it, but you’re too scared to tell him things so he could get it.”

They walked a little further without saying anything else. After a couple more minutes, Jim replied gently, “I’m not scared.”

“It’s okay,” Luca said just as softly. “If mom was still alive, I wouldn’t want to tell her anything too.”

Jim looked at Luca, sighing softly. “I don’t love him,” he finally said. “But I do trust him. I almost died before.” _A pale hand pressed against the glass. Green tinged eyes staring down at him. A single tear. Then another._ “He cried for me, and he fought to bring me back.” _The fear of dying alone eased. He was there.  Just centimeters away.They’re hands were so close yet not touching. The warmth unable to reach him. Unable to feel him. Together yet so alone._ “So he’s important to me.”

“Did you know Vulcan’s kiss with their finger tips?” Luca asked suddenly.

The question had Jim pulling himself out of his memories. “Yeah?” He said, not quite sure where the boy was going with this question.

“Why did you let him kiss you?” At Jim’s confused face, he elaborated, “After you killed them, he held your hand.”

“He’s been around humans for a while. He was just trying to be supportive in a human way. It didn’t mean anything. Besides, Ms. Uhura is his girlfriend.”

Luca scrunched up his face. “You’re lying.”

Jim chuckled. “Am not. They’ve been together for a little over two years now.”

“So he does that for everyone?”

The man went quiet once more. “Yeah. He’s a good guy.”

“I can’t imagine Mr. Spock crying. He’s hard to read, and he’s never happy or sad or anything.”

“First time meeting a Vulcan?”

The boy nodded. “We just got to learning about them in school, so I knew they suppress their emotions, but seeing it for real is so weird, and it makes me nervous.” Jim nodded in understanding. Reading people was part of surviving out here. It would be unsettling to people who never met a Vulcan or just wasn’t used to one, especially when those people where already paranoid. “The only time when I can read anything from him is when he’s talking to you.”

“Oh? And what do you read then?”

“He’s worried. . . and sad.”

They reached the end of the canyon and stopped. “I know.” There was a hint of sadness in Jim’s voice. “Let’s focus. The krehemfirs are still active this time of day. If we can avoid them for an hour or so, we should be able to hunt one.”

“Is it safe to eat?” Jim glanced at Luca, seeing the boy’s face full of seriousness, his eyes hard and cold.

“Hopefully. We should be away from the fungus far enough where nothing’s contaminated or in small doses where it will make you only a little sick. Either way, it’s worth the risk until we find more food. “

Luca nodded. “I’m ready.”

* * *

 

_“Jim, I’m hungry.”_

_Kevin pulled the thin blanket around him tighter, his shoulders hunched and shivering. His eyes wouldn’t leave the baby bottle the older boy was currently holding to feed the infant in Jim’s arms._

_Jim gave him a sympathetic look, adjusting the child in his arms, trying not to think about drinking the milk too. They only had a small supply of powdered milk, and he didn’t know how old the kid had to be before solid foods were okay. Jim didn’t know much about babies, but he was sure that she was too young for it. She didn’t even have teeth. He did his best to keep the baby clean and warm, but both were proving difficult as it had rained for the past week._

_“I know,” Jim’s stomach twisted painfully. “But we have to save the food. One more day.” They had been traveling together for a week, picking up the small addition to their group only two days ago. This was the first time Kevin complained about being hungry, warning Jim that Kevin was nearing his limits. He too was feeling light headed and a couple times, he caught himself hallucinating, seeing himself in front of a warm fire, or hearing Joanna’s soothing voice, beckoning him to close his eyes. The infant’s whimpers had snapped him out of it at those times. It was getting dangerous. With their constant travel, he was burning too many calories, and he couldn’t look for food without leaving Kevin and the infant alone together._

_The baby squirmed in his arms, warning him that she was about to cry._

_“We should have left it.”_

_“I could have left you.” Jim’s comment quieted the young boy, but even Jim’s resolve was weakening. The baby made a lot of noise, needed constant supervision, and slowed them down._

_“Hello, is anyone there?”_

_Kevin’s eyes widened in fear at the sound of the new voice. Jim shoved the baby into the kids arms then hid both of them in some bushes, pulling out a phaser from his pocket. He didn’t respond to the voice. Instead, he crept around, keeping crouched low to the ground._

_“Hello?” the voice called out again. It was feminine, and it sounded familiar. His grip tightened and he pushed forward. A twig snapped under someone’s weight, and he stopped, keeping himself hidden in the shrubbery._

_Less than a minute later, a woman stumbled into his line of sight. She was roughed up, sporting bruises all over her body, and she was limping. Her long blonde hair was in a messy braid, and her lips were cracked and bleeding. He recognized her though. “Mrs. Grahm?” he said cautiously, still having the phaser aimed at her._

_The woman turned slowly, eying the phaser, but smiling all the same. “James. You’re okay.”_

_He nodded slowly. “I thought they killed you.”_

_Her face darkened. “No. I was near the door too. I followed you and your aunt out when she disabled the guards.”_

_Jim shifted his weight unsure of what he should do when the sound of crying drifted over towards them. He grew unnaturally still, watching the woman nervously._

_“You have a baby with you?”_

_He didn’t deny or confirm, but it seemed to be enough for the woman. She smiled gently at him. “James T. Kirk, taking care of a baby. It seems you’ve grown up a bit since my class.” He blushed slightly, but nodded. “Want some help?” A breath he didn’t know he was holding escaped him as he returned her smile with one of his own. “Yes, ma’am.”_

_He led her back to the two kids and watched her take the child into her arms and coo at it, making the baby giggle and gurgle. He would be okay. There was someone else to help him out now._

_They found shelter under some large trees and set up camp. The ground was wet and soggy, so they used their blankets as a barrier between the ground and them, huddling together for warmth. The woman held the child close to her chest while Kevin fell asleep on her lap. “I’ll keep watch over them, James. Do what you need to do.”_

_He nodded, giving her one phaser while he took another. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Hopefully with more food.”_

_“We’ll be waiting.”_

_+_

_Jim shivered. It had started to rain and the food he had been stalking had its tracks erased. He wasn’t good at tracking, but he had been getting steadily better at it. With the downpour however, he couldn’t see much, and the effort was being wasted trying. He made his way to the thicker part of the forest where he knew their camp was settled. The thick canopy kept the majority of the rain out._

_As he neared, he heard crying. He winced, walking faster to the camp, hoping that his missing presence was the reason the baby started crying. It happened occasionally. As he got closer, he realized something was wrong. Dropping his pack, he full out sprinted to their camp site. His blood ran cold._

_Kevin was lying unconscious a phaser burn through his left arm, and the baby was only in her cloth diaper, crying her little head off in the cold wet grass, her blanket Jim had gotten for her missing along with their packs of supplies._

_Cursing hell and back, he shrugged out of his coat, wrapping the baby in it, and then checked Kevin’s injuries. It was just a graze and the wound was cauterized from the heat. The boy probably passed out from the pain or shock. Jim took off his shirt, breaking it into strips to wrap it. Kevin groaned but did not awaken._

_Things couldn’t get much worse. All their supplies were gone and Grahm was nowhere in sight. He cursed his fate when he heard yelling heading their direction. He looked at Kevin and the baby. He could get away if he left them. It would be simple to do. It would be easier procuring food for just him instead of all three of them all over again._

_The voices were getting closer, and he felt something inside him hardened as he thought of Grahm. Carefully, he picked up Kevin, draping him over his back, then the baby. He wouldn’t be like the adults. He was better than them. Struggling to keep his feet underneath him and fighting off the wave of dizziness that threatened to consume him, he disappeared into the forest._

* * *

 

Jim lugged the reptile like predator behind him while Luca carried the backpack and erased their tracks. They’re trip had been very successful, and it was only halfway through the night. Jim planned to spend the rest of the night skinning their catch and making use of the supplies he had found. He wasn’t going to be able to sleep. He was going to take residence at the entrance while he worked, making sure that their new guest didn’t escape and out of sight of Spock while he stripped the carcass of its skin and flesh. The skin was tough and could be used to make fairly strong ropes as well as make very warm clothing once it was dried.

Jim glanced inside to make sure everyone was still alive and nothing was missing, catching the eyes of Spock and McCoy before stepping back out. Luca left the bag out front like he asked before heading inside to sleep beside Uhura.

Jim got to work, cutting into the skin with one of the knives the natives left behind, gutting the creature and ridding it of its entrails. He placed the innards in a clay urn, debating what to do with it at a later time. Carefully, he got to work skinning it. He barely noticed the cool, thick blood coat his fingers. He just watched the blade slide effortlessly under the skin. He probably should have let the blood drain from the corpse first, but he wanted to work on it anyway. He ignored the way the blood pooled beneath him as he worked even as his fingers began to slip.

He didn’t hear the cloth at the entrance, focused entirely on the task.

“You were successful in procuring additional food.”

The human tensed. Slowly, he put the carcass down and retrieved the bottle of water he had set aside to clean his hands. Once that was done, he looked through the contents of the bag, pulling out a small cloth with the ends tied up to make a bag. Handling the object with care, he held it out for Spock to take. “There’s not much. A day or two worth of berries, but it should keep you from eating meat for a little while longer.”

Spock took the small bag with just as much care. “Unnecessary, but I appreciate the gesture.”

“You haven’t been eating much,” he muttered, sitting back down to start up the process again.

He expected Spock to go back inside. He hadn’t expected Spock to sit beside him with a knife of his own, starting on the opposite end. Noticing the captain’s stilled hands, the Vulcan said, “It does not bother me. This animal has died so that it could provide nourishment for others that are starving. Not for sport and not for amusement. It is necessary.”

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,” Jim quoted. He could not take his eyes off Spock’s pale hands getting covered in blood. His eyes stung, and he forced himself to look away and focus.

“Indeed. I too do not wish to die at this moment. When the time comes, I will partake of its flesh and I will not feel remorse when I do because it is necessary for my survival. Instead, I will be grateful for its sacrifice so that you and I may continue living.” Spock said softly, working on his half flawlessly and without hesitation.

“Would you…the next time I go out looking for food,” Kirk’s mouth felt dry and his tongue seemed to stick to his mouth as he tried to get the request out. He didn’t have the right to ask, but… “Would you go hunting with me?”

Spock looked up, his eyes warm as he responded, “Yes, Jim.”

They finished skinning the krehemfir, and Jim left to go dry out the skins while Spock hung up the corpse to finish draining the blood. They both worked in a comfortable silence, and the human found himself okay with it. Spock understood to a certain degree, and he didn’t judge him despite what he knew. When there was nothing else left for them to do and the sun started to rise, they sat playing a mental game of 2-D chess. Spock won easily though not as easily as it could have been if it was 3-D. Thankfully, the Vulcan said it didn’t count to their scores as Jim was highly disadvantaged.

As the others began to stir and awaken, Jim slumped, starting to fall asleep beside his first officer. If he fell asleep on said first officer’s shoulder, no one said anything, and they let him sleep.

* * *

 

_It took a week. An entire week of overturning every hiding spot and crevice to track that bitch down. He knew that it was unlikely that any of their food was left, but Jim didn’t care. He wanted to know why she betrayed them. At first he thought maybe she left to distract the people following them. However, once Kevin regained consciousness, he confirmed that she had betrayed them._

_When he finally caught up to her, it was an accident. He and Kevin had left the baby with another child they had picked up. A nine year old girl had joined them a few days prior. The girl had the same look in her eyes as Kevin did. Fierce determination. She didn’t try to sweeten her words or beg to join them, she was cautious and protective of the few pieces of food that she had. Instantly, Jim knew that she was surviving on her own, and was weary of adults as well. He let her join them._

_They had heard people nearby the camp. Jim and Kevin left to distract them. It was only a coincidence that the intruder Jim was searching for was happened to be his previous high school science teacher. They chased her, not knowing who she was. She wore a hoodie and baggy pants, hiding her hair and figure. Kevin took aim and shot, searing through the soft skin of the back of her knee. She cried out in pain and fell._

_Jim had taught Kevin how to shoot, and he taught him to make crippling blows. In the world they currently lived in, not being able to run or move would eventually get you killed, but the attacker would be long gone. To Kevin, he had never killed anyone directly, and Jim wanted to keep it that way. Only Jim needed to know that those people would most likely die if he hadn’t gone back and killed them himself to put them out of their misery when the child’s back was turned._

_Grahm looked up at him with pleading brown eyes. “James, thank god you’re safe.” At the raised phaser she raised her hands in defense. “Just hear me out. I’m so sorry from stealing from you. I had no choice. If I didn’t bring anything back, they were going to kill Vincent. You understand don’t you? There are people you’re trying to protect too. You know what it’s like.”_

_Jim just stared at her with blank eyes. “Kevin, grab her bag and head back. I have a few things I need to say to her alone.”_

_The boy nodded, rushing to take her bag. Another thirty seconds later he was gone, disappearing into the forest once more._

_“James,” she said pleadingly, thinking she had a chance as long as Jim wanted to talk._

_“Mrs. Grahm.” He shot her in between the eyes, watching her shocked expression stare back at him. With the same proficiency, he searched her body for anything useful, taking her phaser and some sort of hypo and left not looking back at her or giving her another thought._

* * *

 

Jim woke in a start, sweating profusely and shivering violently. He searched his surroundings, trying to find what had wakened him from his nightmare. The cave was empty save for Spock who was kneeling beside him, one hand on his shoulder and the other grasping his hand. “Spock,” he said breathlessly, using his free hand to rub his face.

“Captain, do you require water?”

All Jim could manage was a small nod, concentrating on getting his breathing under control. Spock brought a canteen to his lips and the human drank its contents eagerly. His throat felt dry and raw as if he had been screaming. Once he sated his thirst, he asked where the others had gone.

“They left so that you may sleep without being disturbed. They are searching the nearby homes, for supplies.”

Clearing his mind, pushing back the memories his nightmare had dragged up, he asked wearily, “You didn’t go with them?”

Spock released his hand, and Jim frowned. “You were already in the beginning stages of your nightmare. I stayed to ensure that the nightmare either went away on its own or that you did not cause yourself harm if you could not awaken. The others wished to stay until you woke, but I concluded you would not want them to see you like this and encouraged them to continue without me.”

“Thanks for that,” he murmured, sitting up. “You didn’t have to hold my hand. I’m used to them.” Spock didn’t answer, standing up to go refill the canteen from a bucket they used to collect fresh water. “What?”

Spock continued to fill the canteen as if borrowing himself some time for his answer. “You called for me in your sleep. I was afraid you would not wake unless I could calm you and ensure you I was safe.”

Jim flinched as bits of his dream came back to him. It should have been Jabari’s body in that dream. Not Spock’s. “Sorry.”

“There is no need for apologies. When you are ready, we can join the search as well.”

“Yeah. Just give me a minute.” Spock bowed his head in acknowledgement and went to wait outside the cave. Jim was grateful for that. He took the next several minutes trying to rid his body of the last few tremors and push the memories back behind his mental barriers. He wouldn’t let the dream shake him. Spock was not like Jabari. The same thing wouldn’t happen to him.

* * *

 

_Jim hauled his latest kill over his shoulder. They had run out of food and the last haunt had made everyone ill. Hopefully, this kill would be clean. They couldn’t take another round of illness as they had. It had been two days since he killed Grahm, and as he suspected, she didn’t have any food on her. He was about to pocket his phaser when the bushes rustled nearby. He aimed his phaser towards the intruder and waited._

_A young man froze when he saw him then smiled a second later. “Damn, you scared the shit out of me. I thought you were a guard. Wha─” he never finished. Jim shot him in the chest, right in the heart. He turned and was on his way before the body even hit the ground._

_“The adults aren’t very good at being quiet when they walk.” Jim felt a phaser pressed against his back. Calmly, Jim tried to calculate how to get away, not feeling any fear at the situation or offering a response to the mysterious person holding him at phaser point. “However, I never thought you would shoot first and ask questions later.”_

_The person backed away and slowly Jim turned around. “Jabari,” he greeted coldly. “What do you want?”_

_“Nothing in particular. I’ve been following you the past two days. You didn’t seem to notice, so I had to test you.” Jim sent him a deadly glare. “I want to make a proposition.”_

_“I’m not trading with you,” the young male almost growled._

_“I don’t want to trade. I have food and some medicine, and I’ll give it to you.”_

_“For what?”_

_“I want to join your group.”_

_“No,” was his immediate reply. He waited, knowing that the boy would probably make some excuse or argument to change his mind._

_It didn’t come. Jabari tossed his phaser to Jim who caught it with ease. “If you ever change your mind, I come by this area every two days. Leave a sign, and I’ll find you.” Jim turned the phaser onto the older teen, but the boy didn’t even bat an eye. “Goodbye, Jim.” He turned his back on Jim and the phaser, confident that Jim wouldn’t shoot him. Jim took a shot, missing Jabari’s head by a few centimeters. The boy continued walking, unfazed. He had called Jim’s bluff, and knew that Jim wouldn’t kill him._

_Annoyed, Jim pocket the new phaser. He was never going to ask that asshole for help as long as he lived._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it. Drop me a comment. Do you guys like the flash backs? Is it too much? Do you guys like Jabari? Luca? Am I asking you guys too many questions? Let me know. Also need a Beta. . . bad. Preferably one that will annoy me every other day to write something.


	11. Fungal Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes the title of this chapter is a bad pun. Especially with the contents of this chapter. Thanks to TheOnlyRing 27 for editing this. And yes I wrote this in 24 hours, and I have no life. Also Plugged In now has a sequel. Go crazy nerds.
> 
> Also, to clear up confusion, none of the flashback are dreams. Everything italicized actually happened.
> 
> P.S. So I was totally watching Stargate for 15 hours in a row while writing this. O'Neil, Jackson, and Judge (Tilk's (sp?) actor name) May have ended up referenced in the chapter. I couldn't help it O'Neil introduced himself as James T. Kirk in an episode (before admitting his name wasn't Kirk but Luke Skywalker)).

This was not what he planned. Not what he planned at all. Admiral Komack paced his office, muttering to himself, glancing occasionally at the flat piece of hardware lying on his desk. This was not what he had wanted when he sent Kirk to that colony. He just wanted to make a point. He wanted to show everyone that he was not ready for such a big mission. The worse that was supposed to happen was Commander Spock having to take over for an emotionally compromised captain who could not handle the strain of handling a colony who had a food shortage. It was suppose to drag up memories of Tarsus IV. That was all. Getting the memo about the report the _Enterprise_ had sent back, the situation was so much worse than Starfleet had predicted.

Now they would be lucky if Kirk and his landing team came back at all. He would be a sacrificial hero, and while Kirk would be out of the way then, Komack didn’t want the kid to give up his life either.

A knock at the door, forced the admiral to stop pacing, throwing a snappy “Enter!” over his shoulder as he sat down. He didn’t even look up at the officer’s entrance.

“Admiral, the meeting to discuss the situation on Brekka V will begin in five minutes.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. I will leave shortly,” he murmured, eyes closed. She saluted and left.

Muttering under his breath, he forced himself out of his chair and grabbed his PADD.

The meeting was held in the conference room a floor below his, so it was a short trip, entering just on time. A few other admirals frowned as they had been at the minimum of ten minutes early, a habit hammered into them after being in the service for many years. Komack ignored their stares, and took his seat.

A video of the _Enterprise_ ’s acting captain appeared on the small screen in the middle of the conference table, showing Montgomery Schott’s tired face. “Sirs,” he greeted.

“Mr. Scott, I thank you for being able to join us today. I know you have been busy with repairs,” Admiral Barnett said, sitting at the center of their gathering. “How are the repairs going?”

“We have done all we can, Admiral. However, we are anxious to have assistance. There is a whole lot I can’t fix without docking. We will be arrivin’ at Starbase 19 in three days; however, the _Lexington_ will be in four and a half hours. Commadore Wesley has already offered additional supplies and engineers to help us make the last stretch.”

“Very good. Now I’m assuming everyone has read their packet, but in case some of you didn’t,” he gave a few looks to select admirals, “I will give you a brief synopsis. The captain, first office, chief medical officer, chief communications officer, and three security members are currently stranded on a possibly hostile planet that we know little about. An unknown force drove the _Enterprise_ under the command of Lieutenant Commander Scott away from the planet with a single shot that tore through shields and hull, causing a casualty of fifty-four. That is all we received and that is all we know. Is that correct Mr. Scott?”

“Aye, sir. That pretty much sums it up.”

“Let me get this straight,” Admiral Fitzgerald sat straighter. “Captain Kirk not only put himself in the landing party, he also put his second in command, and two of his senior staff, which includes his chief medical officer, on such a dangerous mission?”

Barnett decided to ignore the fact that Fitzgerald did not read the report as the meeting was very sudden. “Not a surprise since Kirk has been ignoring protocol since he was a cadet. He has shown a repeated tendency to put himself in the middle of the action as well as keeping his XO by his side. While Commander Spock initially stayed aboard at the beginning of their missions, he too has been joining the landing parties more and more frequently.”

“To keep an eye on Kirk. Statistics show that Kirk tends to find trouble, intentionally and unintentionally. Spock is always playing damage control. Kirk has a high success rates but only because of Spock,” Komack said.

“Commander Spock tends to follow the whims of Captain Kirk. He’s as much as a trouble maker as he is,” Fitzgerald commented.

“So they’re probably in a relationship.” Everyone turned to Admiral O’Neil at the outlandish statement. Scotty however looked amused. “What? I’m just saying what everyone is thinking.”

“Commander Spock has strangled Kirk, and, according to the crew logs, they argue on a regular basis. It’s a wonder that the commander stays on the _Enterprise_ willingly.”

Admiral O’Neil shrugged, “Foreplay.”

“We are not here to discuss the captain and commander’s relationship or Kirk’s methods on how he runs his ship. That will be dealt with if he is still alive as the status of the landing party as of this moment is unknown. As of yesterday at 1400, Captain Kirk, Commander Spock, Chief Medical Officer McCoy, Lieutenant Uhura, Ensign Pennington, Ensign Jackson, Lieutenant Judge are all considered MIA. Starfleet Command will attempt to approach the colony again. However we need a plan of attack or a way to negotiate. The floor is open gentlemen.”

“Was there only one ship?” Fitzgerald asked.

“Well, sir, that we could see. I pulled away the moment it became obvious that we were outmatched, but there were no signs of any additional ships,” Scotty admitted, looking though his report.

“So we have one big ship with big guns.” O’Neil leaned back in his seat. “Now what?”

“O’Neil if you don’t have anything useful to say, don’t say anything,” Barnett rubbed his temples.

“Hey, someone has to state the obvious. We have one big ship but that one ship pretty much ripped through the _Enterprise_ like butter. The _Enterprise_ is our most advanced ship with the latest technology. It can outmaneuver most of our other constitution class vessels. In the hands of a good captain─”

“The _Enterprise_ could take on two or possibly three other vessels of the same size,” Admiral Mendez finished for him. “And while Kirk is a genius strategist, it doesn’t help when he’s not on the ship. While Mr. Scott has done the best he can, he’s no Kirk . . . no offense.”

“None taken, Admiral sir. I’m well aware of I’m no Captin. Much less Captin Kirk,” Scotty said good naturedly.

“How about a diversion? Or send a few scout ships to test their skills and gather information?” Mendez said slowly, deep in thought.

“There’s a large chance those ships won’t come back,” O’Neil frowned.

“Yes,” Mendez agreed.

“We can’t send them on a suicide mission.”

“Then, Admiral O’Neil, what do you consider we do?” Tension filled between the two men, both staring each other down across the conference table.

“We could always consider them a lost cause,” Fitzgerald said quietly.

“Now hold on a minute!” O’Neil leaned forward, ready to object.

“Admiral Fitzgerald has a point,” Komack said solemnly. “We still have limited resources after the Romulan’s attack and our numbers are stretched thin. Khan and Marcus further depleted resources with the assassination of multiple higher ups and crashing into San Fransisco. Both incidences back to back has made it difficult. If this threat is as big as you say Admiral O’Neil, then we might get more people killed trying to help them then leaving it be. And this is not knowing whether or not they’re even alive.”

“Permission to speak, sir,” Scotty asked.

Admiral nodded his head. “Permission granted, Lieutenant Commander.”

“Forgive me for saying this, sir, but are ye out of your head? The captin and commander have risked their lives for the Federation countless of times without a second thought and you’re just goin’ to abandon them? And so help me, I’ll turn this starship around to go help them if that is what you decide to do. And I bet my scotch that everyone aboard the _Enterprise_ feel the same way.”

“Abandoning the colony wouldn’t look good for Starfleet either. After the whole Marcus fiasco and all. Not to mention the possible information we could gain about a possible threat,” O’Neil said off handedly.

Barnett rubbed a hand over his face, “Let’s call for a vote,” he said wearily.

* * *

 

_There was nothing left. Jim thought with horror. He vaguely felt Jabari beside him freezing at the sight as well. The colony was barely recognizable. The once dirt roads were covered in a thin layer of white, all the plants that had been green and vibrant were hollow, white husks, crumbling under its own weight. But what was scariest of all was how desolate the entire colony was. What was once a slaughterhouse and a hangout for the guards was now deserted with not a single life form nearby. Not even a cockroach._

_What was disturbing though was the bodies that had been left behind in the streets. The body they had stumbled upon had grown white and husk like on the outside too. So much so that the chest cavity had collapsed in on itself revealing the hardened red innards where small spore stalks were growing out of the corpse. The eyes were a disconcerting yellow and bulging from the sockets. Jim actually had to turn away before he lost what little food he had in his stomach. Jabari stared at the corpse a while longer, studying it, but Jim could tell he was unsettled as well if the slightly heavy breathing through his gas mask said anything. Jim had to resist the urge to remove his gas mask to puke or scratch. He had always wondered what would happen if the fungus got hold of you, but this?_

_“Are you sure you want to do this. One cut and it’s over. The spores are too thick here.”_

_“If there’s a chance they made a report, antifungal spray or something before this or even started on it, it could prove useful. Any knowledge I can find about it will at least help us prevent it from spreading.”_

_“You’re crazy,” Jim muttered, wandering farther into the colony. “Only a biology nerd like you would try to do this in the middle of hell.”_

_“Then I guess that makes you crazy for coming with me,” the younger male could hear the grin in his voice._

_“Like I’d let you go alone,” he huffed, keeping his eyes focused on the research building._

_With the lack of guards they made it quite easily to the research building, as the fine layer of dust laid undisturbed before their presence. It had been a long time since anyone had returned._

_They reached the door when Jabari turned his partner. “Jim, could you remain out here to keep guard? I don’t know how long I will be.”_

_“Just don’t spend all night in there. I know how you wanna be doctors like to poke and prod at things.”_

_Jabari gave a small smile. “Remember what I taught you. If the trip wire fails─”_

_“Jabari,” Jim said interrupting impatiently. “I got it. I had a good teacher.”_

_For a minute he swore he saw Jabari blush, but the older boy turned away before Jim could really see. “I’ll be as fast as I can.”_

_Jim walked around the perimeter to make sure there was no trace of unwelcomed visitors then placed his pack down carefully, pulling out small glass jars with care. Hopefully they worked._

* * *

 

Jim placed the jars carefully into his sack, making absolutely sure they wouldn’t jostle around too much. The smell of cooked meat permeated the room, making his stomach twist angrily. Everyone else was gathered around the fire, eating a small portion of the meat Jim had hunted the night before. Jim could have eaten more than an ounce. He had built up an immunity, but it was only fair he eat the same amount as his crew.

“Why are these portions so damn small?” the doctor grumbled, pushing the food around on the clay plate.

“Precaution,” and that was the only reply Jim offered to give. He ignored the doctor’s look of sadness directed at him and tried not to acknowledge Uhura putting a comforting hand on the man’s leg. He knew he was growing further and further away from his friends, but he couldn’t stop himself. He wouldn’t. It would be better this way in the long run.

He placed a blanket in the sack to minimize the jars movements and packed the last of his items. He almost didn't see Spock come up beside him and take a portion of the meat. “Spock . . . don’t.”

“By your own rules, by the end of tomorrow, this must be disposed of. I do not wish to see so much go to waste.”

“We still have rations,” Jim argued quietly. He felt sick, seeing the meat on Spock’s plate. “You don’t have to right now.”

“Jim─”

“Please,” he whispered. “Don’t eat it just yet. Wait a few more days. I’ll try to find you more berries while I’m out. Please.”

At the desperate plea, Spock slowly placed his plate on the floor. “I will eat the rations.”

Jim nodded sharply, and looked back at his bag, refusing to look at Spock. Once he finished packing, he left, muttering about looking around some more.

Once Jim was gone from the cave for a good five minutes, Spock picked up his plate again, adding a small portion of the ration with the meat.

“You won’t get sick on me will you?” McCoy asked as Spock took a seat next to him. “You shouldn’t have the necessary enzymes to break down complex proteins like that.”

“I will be adequate. While the thought of consuming meat is not appealing, I have been focusing on creating the enzymes as soon as I realized we will be here for a longer duration than anticipated. At the most a slightly upset stomach though ideally I should be able to consume it without difficulty or side effects.”

“As long as you don’t vomit on me,” the doctor stated gruffly, continuing his meal. “And I thought Vulcans couldn’t lie.”

“I did not lie. I stated that I would consume some of the rations, and I am.”

“Technicality. Jim is going to freak when he finds out.”

“He will not unless you say something doctor,” Spock stared at the human long enough to make him uncomfortable. “His request was illogical, and I did not wish to aggravate him additionally.”

McCoy sighed. “Spock, a word,” he said standing up and expecting the resident hobgoblin to follow.

Curious, Spock did follow. They went as far as standing just outside the cloth door. The night air was cool enough that the human crossed his arms to stave off the goose bumps forming on his skin. Spock did no such thing and placed his hands behind his back as usual. “Look, you shouldn’t lie to Jim. Don’t even mislead him or omit stuff from him.”

Spock’s brows furrowed. “I do not understand, Doctor McCoy.”

“Jim… I don’t know if you noticed, but Jim’s been increasingly distancing himself emotionally and physically from me and Uhura. The only person who’s gotten through the walls he’s putting up is you and the kid, but he can’t and he won’t tell that kid everything going on with him. That leaves you. If he catches you lying in anyway shape or form, he’s not going to trust you anymore.”

“I am not certain that is the best course of action.”

“Look here, you bloody hobgoblin. I get you want to do what’s best for Jim, but Jimbo’s reliving his personal hell right now. He might not be having straight out PTSD but if what you told me is true, that Jim was about to kill Commodore Decker without a second thought, it’s close enough. He’s going back to the way he was on Tarsus, Spock. We have to do everything we can to prevent him from losing himself, and the biggest thing right now is making sure he trusts us. It wasn’t a luxury he had there.”

Spock’s eyed the direction Jim had taken. “I understand.”

Sighing with relief, the doctor followed the Vulcan’s gaze. “You know Spock, we might not survive this. Telling him now might be your only chance.”

Spock kept staring out into the distance when he replied, “Perhaps you are correct doctor. I shall consider it.”

They both walked back in, gaining curious glances from Uhura silently asking what that was about. Spock and McCoy didn’t acknowledge them, eating the rest of their food in peace.

“I admit, Kirk isn’t anything like the rumors,” Decker said, having a much larger piece of meat than the others. “I always heard how cocky, self confident, and talkative he was even during a crisis. I got to say he’s everything but. I don’t think he’s said a single word to me since I joined the group.”

“He’s not normally like this,” Uhura supplied. Her plate was completely clean of any remains, but she ran some water over it to clean it anyway before putting it away. “This mission is just … different from the others.”

“I guess it is a pretty shitty mission. Enough stress to break anyone one with command,” Decker wore a tight smile.

The smile made Spock tense. “The captain tends to excel under stress. It is a peculiar trait that I find not enough humans possess.”

Decker’s eyes widened at what he felt to be a hostile response. When Spock didn’t say anything else, Decker stayed alert never drifting his attention from the Vulcan long.

“If I may ask, Commodore, what is the situation right now out there?” Uhura sat beside the Commodore, giving him her full attention.

The commodore sighed loudly, putting the now empty plate with the others. “Not much to say really. The only thing I know for sure is that there are many small factions, groups, of survivors. From what I’ve seen I don’t think there’s a group any larger than 100.

"The colony was scorched about a month ago to help stop the spread of the fungus. It must have worked somewhat because the governor and members of his faction are still held up there. The factions were a great idea at first, but now there just seems to be an increase amount of violence within the groups. That’s all I really know.”

Spock watched the commodore, feeling like he was with holding something. He remembered the words Jim said to him. The only words Jim had said since finding him. “Why have you not joined a faction, Commodore? And where is your crew?”

Decker grew visibly uncomfortable, not meeting their eyes as he explained. “I had gotten pissed off at something my XO said to me. Despite what my common sense told me, I went out for a walk. Apparently, I had just missed the initial outbreak of violence doing so. On my walk, there was some loose soil that caused me to fall down a hill and hit my head. I lost consciousness. I don’t know how long, but by the time I returned, the colony was in ruins and my crew was gone. I found a few of them dead, but I don’t know where the rest of them are at this moment.”

There were holes in his story. A glance at Uhura confirmed what Spock was thinking, picking up the same questions he had. She looked back at him and he conveyed that they shouldn’t ask. Not yet.

“Let me take a look at you head,” McCoy commanded in his usual gruff demeanor. He blatantly ignored Decker’s reassurances that he was fine, and continued to look him over. The conversation was over for now.

Spock glanced at the child standing away from all of them near the entrance. His body was tense and his grip on his knife was turning his knuckles white watching them all with hawk like eyes. Spock moved to get up and drew the child’s focus, eyes narrowing just enough for him to notice. Spock moved slower than he normally would with exaggerated movements to let the child know everything he was doing before he did them. Luca was wound up as tight as Jim had been after he had killed those men.

As he approached, the child subtly repositioned his grip on the knife. Luca was obviously used to using it as a weapon. Spock stopped just out of arm’s reach in front of him. “Do you have knowledge of the captain’s intended purpose is with this outing?”

The boy didn’t budge, measuring Spock up. “Why do you need to know?”

Spock had to think. What answer would get this child to answer his query. “I am worried,” he said softly, so the others couldn’t hear.

Luca assessed him once again, his lips thinning. Spock thought he had said the wrong thing when Luca answered, “I think he left to set up traps.”

Curious, he asked, “Do you know what type of traps?” The child shrugged casually obviously not planning to tell him anymore. “Have you obtained sustenance?”

“Sustenance?”

“Have you eaten?” Spock corrected himself.

Luca shook his head. “I’ll wait until Jim gets back.”

“As you wish,” Spock bowed his head and went back to the group. He debated going to find Jim, but in the dark he could be more of a hindrance and might accidentally set off one of the traps. Instead, he went towards the back of the cave where he had the communication device pulled apart and arranged accordingly. The most he could do to help Jim right now was to get this working. He wouldn’t let him down.

* * *

  _Jim pounded on the door, desperately. Why the hell did Jabari lock the door? Didn’t he hear what was going on outside. He had been in that lab for almost three days. The door opened and Jim was met with a knife to his neck. He glared at the wielder. “Fucker, we have to go.”_

_Jabari lowered the knife. There were bags under his eyes from lack of sleep and his hand trembled as he put it away. It was obvious he hadn’t slept since he stepped foot in the lab. The bag Jabari had carried with him was packed to the brim and looked heavy. It wasn’t ideal for the situation they were in. “The guards?” he asked roughly._

_The younger boy could only nod as they exited the building through the lab’s window. Everything was burning. The flames were high and the air was filled with spores being released before the stalks died and burned. If anything the fungus burned too well, as they were quickly becoming surrounded. It was only luck that one of the buildings collapsed and allowed them an escape. The guards were spread thin, so it was easy to slip through the security surrounding the colony. Before they knew it, they were heading back._

_Once far away enough from the infection, they stopped to dispose of their clothes with their own fire and washed their bodies thoroughly and their bags and as much as the supplies as they could. Hopefully the heat of the fire killed most of the spores._

_They were almost back to their cave when he finally asked. “So, what did you find out? You were in there forever.”_

_Jabari’s eyes kept straight ahead. That was never a good sign. “The research was scattered and disorganized, but from what I was able to piece together in the reports and from my own tests, it has the reproduction cycle of a fungus, but it essentially acts like a virus. It takes over living cells and tissue, converting it for its purpose to reproduce and grow. In a sterilized environment where there are no living cells, it is nothing more than an inanimate object. You couldn’t even consider it to be alive. It just lays dormant until a living organism is close by.”_

_“A virus,” Jim repeated already knowing what Jabari was saying. There was no cure._

_“Yeah. Either the fungus will provoke an immune response, rending it useless in the host’s body, at least in small amounts, or you will get infected, and you will die.”_

_Jim closed his eyes preparing himself. “What can we do?”_

_“It seems to be rendered ineffective with strong heat, like the fire, but if it is visible on the host, even a little bit. It’s too late to do anything. The entire body is already infected. It’s only a matter of time before something they touch gets infected or spores start to be released. It is far beyond anything ever documented.”  Jim nodded, seeing the cave come into view. “Jim … someone bioengineered this.”_

_“I picked that up, thanks,” he replied sharply. Jabari wasn’t at fault. He just confirmed what Jim had already known. He had hoped he was wrong._

_One of the children came out. A young boy, age eight, with a small smile on his lips. “Nii-chan, you’re back. Good news?”_

_Jim couldn’t tear his eyes away from the long cut on the boys arm, small white particles were always visible in the wound, no matter how many times they washed it and cleaned it out, and day by day there was a little more._

_Jim tensed at the hand on his shoulder. “I can do it, Jim.”_

_“Yuji,” Jim said ignoring the teen. He gave the child a weak smile and held out his hand, “come with me for a bit.”_

_The boy didn’t hesitate to grab Jim’s hand, looking up at him excitedly. “Where are we going?” Yuji asked._

_Jim could feel Jabari’s dark eyes follow him as he led the boy towards the marshes where they buried their dead. “To a better place.”_

* * *

 

Jim returned early morning, the sun already peeking over the hill. His bag was significantly lighter and he felt more at ease with the situation. This was a good defendable location with an easy escape route. The traps would alert them to any intruders.

Jim nodded at Luca, who was still standing by the entrance awaiting his return and Luca smiled back before schooling his expression. “We have a problem.”

“What problem?” At his request, Luca looked over to McCoy. Jim stiffened as he approached his friend. The doctor was curled up on his side, sweating profusely and shivering uncontrollably. A soft groan escaped his lips in his unconscious state.

“Anyone else sick?” Jim asked, kneeling beside his friend to try to judge how high his fever was. He was burning up.

“No. Just him.”

Jim sighed in relief as he poured cool water onto a cloth and draped it over his friend’s forehead. He carefully dragged him away from the fire into the cooler part of the cave without waking up the others.

“We should kill him,” Luca stated without batting an eye.

“No. He could still get better. His body could be taking longer to fight it off because he’s older. If it starts to show on him, then I’ll do it.”

Luca looked doubtful. “Trust me. I’ve seen it before. Sometimes they do grow an immunity even after this,” Jim reassured him. It was a slim chance. Most who got this sick he had to put down a week later, but there were two or three that had gotten better. The meat only contained a small dosage otherwise everyone would be sick, McCoy could still be fine.

Luca still looked reluctant. Thankfully, he didn’t object, already taken to Kirk’s orders as if he was one of his subordinates.

He did check to make sure no one else was showing symptoms as well as check Spock’s progress with the communicator without disturbing the Vulcan’s meditation. It looked like Spock was dividing the parts into categories: parts that needed replacements, parts that could be saved, and parts that were good. A little too few in the good parts list, but it looked like majority of the bad parts could be saved.

He ate some of the meat, not worried about getting sick himself then changed McCoy’s rag for a cooler one. He sat beside him, waiting for the others to wake up.

* * *

_There were so few of them now. Jim thought as he entered behind the vines hiding their new hideout. At some point, he had managed to make the group grow to almost thirty kids. Maybe that was their downfall. There had been too many. Now there were only eleven. Kevin was waiting for him, taking the bag of phasers and putting it with their stockpile of supplies. They would be handed out tomorrow._

_Jim planned to get some shut eye but the yelling told him he would have to resolve that first._

_“Take off your shirt,” Jabari said calmly, but even Jim could tell he was annoyed and growing impatient._

_The girl he had been talking to was named Lynda. She was average looking, with average light brown hair and eyes. She had been Jim’s partner occasionally. While she looked for confirmation of being alive with their joinings, Jim was looking for a way to take the edge off the increasing tension. Perhaps in a different situation, he’d feel different about using her even as she used him. Despite the intimate act, there was never any vulnerability between them and nothing intimate about it. They would both part and never speak of it until the next time. They weren’t friends, and often they couldn’t even stand each other._

_Jabari of course knew of their activities. While he said nothing about it, he would always be busy the day after and would barely speak to Jim. Jim didn’t understand why until Jabari had kissed him that night so many months ago. How long had it been? How long have they been stranded here? Even knowing Jabari’s feelings, Jim kept going back, though less and less often, as the months went by. It had been at the very least two weeks._

_Lynda was on her knees, glaring at Jabari through her tears, clutching her shirt like a life line. “Go to hell, nigger!”_

_Jim’s temper flared at the racial slur. He didn’t think he ever heard anyone say that word outside centuries old books and movies. He let his hand fly, striking her cheek with a hard slap, vaguely thinking she was lucky it wasn’t a punch._

_Jabari’s eyes widened in surprise at both Jim’s presence and actions, but stayed silent as usual._

_“Take. Off. The. Shirt.” Jim didn’t raise his voice, his actions having done enough to stun the girl to silence and stop her crying. There was no modesty here. Everyone had seen everyone else naked on a daily basis. There was no such luxuries such as privacy. That was only found outside the group and outside protection._

_Jim and his trysts with the girl were always somewhere close by where Jim could run back quickly. Jabari wasn’t the only one who had walked in on them and neither were ever embarrassed by it. No time, no energy, and no illusions, and Jim never lost himself to the pleasure of it and always had his phaser within arm's reach. Those who did not want to see them due to their experiences stayed away and avoid looking at Jim for a few days, but there was no judgment as long as he stayed with one specific person, and she was not harmed or showed signs of being a victim._

_Lynda was sobbing as she pulled off her shirt. The result wasn’t a surprise to Jim. There was only one reason why someone wouldn’t take off their clothes in front of the others if they hadn’t been a victim. On her back was the fungus, in the late stages about to release spores any day now. She must not have gone bathing to scrub it off if it looked like that so fast. Then again, it would only delay and not cure the problem. And bathing would have led to an earlier discovery._

_“Follow me,” he said emotionlessly._

_“No!” She practically screamed. “You can’t make me!”_

_Without hesitation, Jim grabbed her wrist, and proceeded to drag her out. She kicked and screamed, digging her heels into the ground. “Help me! Don’t let him do this!” She looked around desperately, trying to catch anyone’s eyes. No one looked up, continuing their chores and pretending not to see her. She sobbed, begged, cursed at everyone until Jim picked her up and carried her outside. Her cries were heard for several minutes until it suddenly stopped. Twenty minutes later, Jim came back alone._

_Jabari caught the sight of blood on Jim’s sleeve. Jim’s expression hadn’t changed since he dragged Lynda out. Still eerily calm and impassive. “Are you okay?”_

_“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, still impassive. Jabari nodded his head, walking away._

_“Jim?” Ester, a young four year old and one of the last four children under 10 left, tugged on his hand. Jim turned cold eyes to her. There was no warmth there. All the children had grown used to that look though. Especially on Jim. “Did you take her to the nice place?”_

_The teen opened his mouth ready to bite out a no, there is no such place, when Jabari calmly answered for him. “Yes. She went up to heaven with the others. I bet she’s happy and playing with them right now.”_

_Ester smiled up at him. “That’s good. We’ll get to see her someday right?”_

_Jabari smiled at her, nodding. “Someday, but not today.”_

_With hope in her eyes, the girl wondered away, going back to her chore of drying the dishes._

_Jim lazily looked over at his right hand. “You shouldn’t lie to her. There’s no such thing as heaven, and there is no God.”_

_“Maybe, maybe not,” he conceded, handing Jim the liquor bottle he had left to fetch. “But believing there is an afterlife for those who fear death makes it easier.”_

_Jim snorted his disbelief. “Whatever.” Louder he announced, “Everyone strip off your clothes and put them in the wash. After that, save what you can and burn everything else. We need to abandon the hideout.” Everyone, young and younger, shot up to do as Jim told them with haste. Jim stripped off his clothes too. It was the easiest way to see who else was infected without drawing the attention to any specific person and gave those uneasy with being nude with a sense of security when everyone else was too._

_Jim watched the flurry of activity. This would be their last move. Tomorrow, everything would end._

* * *

The next morning, Jim sent everyone out to collect supplies Spock asked for while he watched over McCoy who had yet to awaken. If Uhura was honest, she was worried. Their doctor was sick and not waking up, their captain seemed emotionally unstable, and Spock was refusing to tell her anything that was going on. This wasn’t the first mission to go wrong and hopelessly so, but this was the first time where she was witnessing the golden command team falling apart.

She placed another small crystal into the bag Jim had given them. The situation did seem increasingly hopeless. “Did you find anything, sir?” she asked Decker. Decker wasn’t so bad a guy. He was eager to help. A little bit jumpy, but he genuinely seemed like a nice guy.

“Just trying to see if this piece of metal will be helpful,” he muttered.

Uhura turned around seeing the admiral bent over looking at something. She frowned. The admiral’s dress shirt had shifted up showing a sliver of his back. There was something white on his skin. “Commodore, there’s something on your back.”

Decker sat up straight, smiling uneasily. “It’s nothing.”

“Are you okay?” She moved to lift the shirt up again, but Decker took a step away.

“I’m a bit sick,” he admitted. “It’s a side effect, but I’ll be fine. With the doctor sick and all, I don’t want to worry anyone else until he gets better.”

“Sir, Spock is a science officer. He might be able to help somehow.”

“Please Lieutenant. If the doctor doesn’t get better in a few days, I’ll talk it over with Commander Spock. Until then, can you keep it quiet?”

Uhura looked unsure, biting her lip as she thought it over. A few days shouldn’t be too bad. “Yes, sir. I can do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments and reviews. I thrive off them and sadly every time I get a message in my inbox nowadays I'm worrying if anything person is telling me to go kill myself. Could use some positive (or helpfully critiquing) comments from you guys to get rid of that fear.


	12. Command

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else notice all the TOS reference I put in these chapters? I use at least one every chapter or try to. Also there are like 3 in this chapter cause . . . STAR TREK MARATHON!!! I think I went through season two and three in two days. . . I need a life. Also since I'm working Thanksgiving and won't get to see my family cause my job is run by ASSHOLES, I may be addicted to writing as a result less I do something stupid like quit my part time or kill the upper management. Also whoever finds two of the references in this chapter gets a cookie.
> 
> PS. The future chapters will be heavily inspired by a music video called "Let Me Help" Kirk/Spock. I actually set it up with this first scene. You should check it out. It's on youtube.

_An old PADD perched on his lap under the cool shade of a large oak like tree; Jabari almost looked at peace when Jim had finally found him. When Jim realized the older boy was gone, he had panicked, scared to death that something had happened to him. Catching first sight of him, Jim was ready to chew the other boys hide for almost making him have a heart attack. However seeing him sitting there, a small smile on his lips as he typed across the device, Jim couldn’t do it. He had never seen Jabari look so relaxed._

_“Are you going to stand there or are you going to join me?” Jabari called, not even looking up as he typed._

_“How do you do that?” the younger teen grumbled, coming out of his hiding spot. “I swear you’re psychic.”_

_Jabari’s small smile widened a fraction, but didn’t retort, focused on whatever he was working on. Jim sat beside him, trying to catch a glimpse, but it was difficult to make out anything due to the cracked screen. “You shouldn’t wander so far from camp you know.”_

_“I know, but I had a feeling you would find me eventually if I left a trail, and I needed some space.”_

_A twinge of guilt ran through Jim, knowing he was the cause for the distance. “So . . . what are you working on?”_

_For the first time since Jim found him, he looked up, his dark eyes calculating what to say. He seemed to relent to Jim’s question in the end. “I’m writing a novel.”_

_“Right, you want to become a writer. Mr. Premed.”_

_Jabari looked back to the PADD, rereading what he had written. “Amara, my older sister, used to tell me to keep a journal so I had a way to record all my experiences and emotions I thought were important to me. At first I tried it, but I couldn’t get past the idea of it. Why record something I already lived though. If it’s important to me, I’ll remember it no matter how much time passed. So instead, I recorded my experiences in another setting, with different circumstances, but with the same emotions I was feeling then. Eventually, they morphed into stories.”_

_“So, you’re writing about Tarsus without “writing” about Tarsus?” Jim said slowly, trying to understand._

_“Yes. You would understand if you read it. It’s a parallel to the real world but still a work of fiction.”_

_“Right,” he said slowly, leaning back against the tree. “So you’ll let me read it when you finish?”_

_The older teen smiled again, typing another sentence before replying. “If you can promise to come up with a title for it when you finish.”_

_Grinning ear to ear, Jim replied, “It’s a deal.”_

* * *

 

A smile eased its way onto the captain’s face at the memory. He had an urge to read it now. He always did whenever he suffered nightmares about Tarsus. He hadn’t been as alone as he had always felt whenever he recalled the events on Tarsus. He wouldn’t have changed anything he did or the things he said back then, but the book reminded him that others suffered to. It wasn’t just his pain that had existed.

“Something amusing, Captain?”

Jim turned his head to see brown eyes staring at him, and his smile widened just a tad as tension rolled off his shoulders. “Just thinking of my past relationships, Mr. Spock.”

“I see,” the Vulcan said, sitting straighter and maneuvering his body to face the captain with a carefully blank face. Curious, Kirk thought absentmindedly. “So not a smile of amusement and more akin to fondness.”

With an all out grin, the human laid back against the wall, returning his gaze to his unconscious friend. It was the most ease the captain had exhibited since their first night here. Still, Spock seemed unusually interested. The subspace communication device still laid in pieces beside him. It seemed almost forgotten in that moment, so Kirk decided to elaborated. “During times like this, it’s easy to reflect on your life. See if you have any regrets, fears, or wishes left in case you don’t make it out.”

“And do you, sir?”

Jim’s gaze drifted to the cave’s ceiling, his eyes glazing over with memory. “You know . . . I knew a famous novelist once. Wrote a book on the topic of love. A famous fiction book too.”

“I do not understand,” Spock admitted, his brows furrowing in thought.

Jim refocused his eyes on Spock, his grin turning into a sad smile. “Every lover I have ever had has told me they loved me.”

Before Spock could even question it, Jim switched the subject to the subspace communicator. Spock allowed the change, explaining the problems he was having to the littlest detail. The Vulcan did stiffen when Jim leaned over his shoulder to see the components that needed to be replaced in a better light. Neither commented on it though, focusing completely on the task at hand.

Jim was only sidetracked when a soft groan from the doctor, pulled him away. “Hey, Bones, take it easy.” He kneeled beside his barely conscious friend, trying to sit up.

“I’m the doctor around here.” The man grumbled, trying to move despite Jim’s hand on his shoulder urging him to stay put.

“And also known as the _Enterprise’s_ worst patient,” Spock supplied, earning a small chuckle from the captain.

He changed the cloth on his friend’s head, dipping it in cool water first. His fever seemed to be going down. Slowly but surely. “Not fair . . . you’re the one allergic . . . to . . .” the man was already drifting back to sleep.

Kirk brought a small clay bowl full of water to his lips before he could fully fall asleep. A lot of it missed the man’s mouth, drizzling down his chin and drenching his shirt. McCoy was only able to manage a gulp or two, passing out again.

Carefully, Jim laid his best friend back down in the make shift bed and dried the shirt to the best of his abilities.

Luca was still glaring at McCoy from his position near the entrance. He had not moved from there since McCoy had fallen ill. Not that Jim could blame him. It was a risk. McCoy would eventually get better, but whether he would become a source of contamination or would fight it off would remain to be seen for another week or so.

Silently, he waved Luca over. Wearily, Luca obeyed, steering clear of McCoy. “Yes, Jim?”

“Can you go and check on Uhura and the taHqeq for me?” The child immediately tensed, shifting his eyes away. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I’ll be right here if you go.”

Luca shifted again, glancing at the exit.

“And if you need help, all you have to do is get my attention, and I’ll come running.”

“Promise?” he whispered.

“lay’ jIH.”

Nodding softly, Luca left to find them.

“I was unaware you spoke Klingon, sir.”

Jim grew quiet again, deep in thought. “After our little quarrel with the Klingons back on Qo’noS, I decided I probably should learn it if a war does break out. Or if we find ourselves in that particular region again for any reason.”

“And how does Luca know it?”

“I’m teaching him some basics. Just in case he needs to tell me something and can’t be overheard. He’s a quick learner. Might be better than Uhura someday.”

“I see,” Spock turned back to the communicator.

“Spock?” His voice was soft yet emotionally distant as if preparing himself for something. Spock stopped immediately, giving Jim his full attention. “Did you eat the meat?” Jim didn’t look at him, just staring out into a blank space in front of him.

Spock contemplated saying no, but instead he nodded his head slightly. “Yes, Jim. Along with a portion of the rations.”

Instead of anger, Jim laughed to himself. It was hollow and forced as if it was painful to do. “You know, I realized after I left last night the huge loophole I left you. I knew you’d take it too. I just hoped . . .” His face was crestfallen mixed with frustration.

“Jim . . .”

“It’s happening all over again, and I’m just as useless as I was back then. If I can’t even protect your beliefs, how can I protect you?!” In his anxiety, he was up and pacing.

“It was my choice, Jim. It was not your failing─”

The human shook his head, his expression closed, drawing into himself.

“Jim.”

At the sound of his name, Jim left the cave. Never before had Spock seen Jim actually run away from something. Run away from him.

“I told you so.”

Spock sent McCoy a glare, but couldn’t respond.

* * *

 

_“This is our chance, don’t you see! We can get medicine, Jim! Food to last us months!”_

_“And get people killed in the process,” Jim said darkly. “It’s too risky.”_

_“You’re just a coward. What the hell do you know?” That got Jim to look up at the speaker. This one was always causing trouble. Aramis, more similar to his namesake than the kid would ever admit. Ambitious, flirty to a fault, and never satisfied._

_With cold, dangerous eyes, he said slowly so the teen could understand. “I said no,”_

_“Who made you in charge anyway?!” Jim was really starting to hate French accents due to this kid alone. “Fils de salope,” he muttered under his breath. It obviously wasn’t meant for Jim’s ears._

_“Je m’en fou,” Jim scoffed. At the kid’s widened eyes, Jim smirked. “Learned French just for you.”_

_“Nique ta mere!” Aramis snapped._

_Jim only rolled his eyes. “Sorry, she’s not my type. Go do your chores, Aramis.”_

_Aramis opened his mouth to say something else, but Jabari stepped in, his presence foreboding. “I believe you should get back to your chores, Aramis.”_

_The teen scowled, turning away to do what Jabari said but not before throwing one last glare at Jim._

* * *

 

When Luca came back, he had Decker and Uhura with him, though he traveled behind them both.

Spock looked up at their entrance only to go back to tampering with his project. Upon closer inspection, there seemed to be many indents the size of fingers in the casing now. Uhura briefly wondered how.

“Where’s, Kirk?” she asked.

The small metal screwdriver in Spock’s hands bent. Okay, so that wasn’t good.

Luca was backing away from them, his hand inching for his knife. Seeing the retreat, Spock said finally said, “He left temporarily. He should return before dark.” The Vulcan kept his eyes focused on the screwdriver, straightening it as much as he could, then placed the ruined circuit board he had broken earlier aside.

Uhura noticed the pile was bigger than before she had left, many of the new additions broken in half or dented. That really wasn’t good.

“Jim caught Spock lying. He didn’t take it well.” All eyes turned to the doctor, who was propped up against a pile of blankets. His face was still pale with dark purplish-brown bags under his eyes and his skin damp with sweat, but he was at least conscious.

Spock however kept his gaze on the parts. If Uhura didn’t know any better, she’d say Spock was sulking. How could Kirk not see how he affected his first officer? He made a Vulcan sulk for crying out loud.

As if sensing her turn of thoughts, Spock straightened himself and faced the group with a perfect Vulcan mask. “Were you successful in procuring anything of use?”

“We found a few crystals that might help. They need to be shaped though. As you suspected, we couldn’t find anything that could substitute for wire,” Decker placed what they found beside the Vulcan.

Spock took only a moment to inspect the crystals. “They should be sufficient.”

He was about to go back to his work when a gentle hand touched his shoulder briefly. “You should take a break,” she said softly. “We can’t afford you breaking more parts,” she added when he didn’t seem inclined to listen to her request.

Spock exhaled a little more forcefully that may have been considered a sigh on anyone else, but never the less obeyed silently. “I will meditate,” he replied, moving farther back into the cave where Jim had set up a small meditation alcove for him.

“Glad to see you’re awake, Doctor McCoy,” Decker smiled. “How are you feeling?”

“Like my body’s pumping lead and I’ve been shoved into a damn freezer,” he mumbled, pulling the blankets around him tighter.

Uhura draped another blanket over him. “You know what they say, sweat out the fever.”

The doctor scoffed. “If you want to die from being overheated or dehydration,” he weakly shoved the extra blanket away.

“Good to know your medical knowledge is still working,” Decker settled beside him, helping himself to some rations.

“Please, this is nothing. Been closer to death on Miri and still found a damn vaccine.” The doctor scoffed.

“Doctor,” Spock’s voice drifted over to them, sounding distant. “Miri was the name of the child. The planet’s name was P─”

“I don’t really care, Spock. Now, shut up and meditate already.”

Spock was silent after that, apparently heeding the doctor’s orders.

The Commodore laughed, though it lacked any warm feeling of genuine pleasure. “I’ve never seen a crew so close. Calling each other by first names, no titles, even borderline insubordination. I’m surprise Kirk allows it with how strict he seems.”

“Kirk’s usually laid back,” Uhura said, sitting down by the fire. She waved Luca to come sit beside her. He shook his head no, and she sighed. “I mean with the Narada and Admiral Marcus, it kind of forced the bridge crew together. It’s hard to be formal with the guy who’d jump off a drill for you, or sacrifice his life for you all the time, or is constantly in your sickbay. He treats us like family and almost everyone here kind of thinks of him as their genius, annoying little brother. It just also happens that he’s also one hell of a captain too.”

“More like a pain in my ass,” McCoy said, sourly with a hint of fondness in there.

“I take it the exception is Mr. Spock,” Decker asked.

McCoy and Uhura shared a look. “Something like that,” she answered carefully. “At the very least he respects the captain.”

“So his behavior isn’t normal,” he muttered to himself. He didn’t ask any more questions.

Uhura carefully ate some rations, splitting with McCoy who could only stomach two bites. Everyone had settled for sleep by the time Jim returned. Only Uhura was awake, with Spock too far into the cave to have seen his entrance.

Luca whispered something to Jim. The captain nodded, picking the child up in his arms, and they settled into their own little corner. It would have been cute if not for how tired they both looked. She knew Jim didn’t sleep much, but only Spock seemed to know how little that really was. She didn’t know how to help, and she couldn’t help but wonder, how much more could Jim take before he snapped under the pressure?

* * *

 

_Jabari had been gone too long. He was due back hours ago._

_Jim was pacing the front of their camp, unconsciously stepping only on the rocks to keep his footprints from showing in the marshy terrain._

_He was distracted with his thoughts, and with the familiar steps coming up behind him, he didn’t question it. Not until he realized there were too many. Jim looked up to see ten of them. Ten of his teens, the ones he took on missions with him, standing before him. He moved for his phaser, but a shot grazing his hand stopped him. “Don’t move, Jim.”_

_“A mutiny? Really, Aramis?” Jim’s eyes narrowed, and his voice deepened._

_The 15 year old flinched at Jim’s change, recognizing it for the threat that it was. “You know, it took forever for Jabari to leave. I don’t know what he sees in you, but it’s gone too far. You’ve become nothing but a dictator. Telling us what to do all the time, stopping us from helping the others. Hell, you kill our own without a shred of remorse. You need to be stopped.”_

_“So what? You going to shoot me?” Jim’s dark stare seemed to unnerve some of them._

_“No,” Aramis said. “We aren’t like you.” He tossed a small pack that landed a foot in front of Jim. “You’re going to leave and not come back. In there are some blankets, a knife, and a bottle of water. You should be able to survive with that and your phaser.”_

_Jim’s eyes narrowed at the bag. “I don’t need your charity.” With a flick of his wrist, he threw his phaser back to them. “I’ll leave, but,” his voice was so cold that many of them took one step back. “If I found out you hurt even one of my kids, I will hunt you down and tear you limb from limb, and if you’re still alive I’ll be more than happy to let Jabari use you as his next biology experiment. And you know how curious he’s been about having a live subject to test his theories about the fungus on. I’m sure he wouldn’t object to a human subject if it was somehow involved with harming one of my kids.”_

_They were visible sweating, judging the potential of whether or not Jim would actually follow through on that threat._

_“I would never hurt them. No one would. The only threat is you,” Aramis spoke confidently. He then smirked. “Who knows, if Jabari won’t conform, we’ll let him go too. Then you fags can go fuck each other.”_

_Danger glinted off his eyes. “Lynda would say differently,” his ice blue eyes landed on the 16 year old standing towards the back.”Wouldn’t you Lynda.”_

_The girl just shrugged. He was tempted to punch her. “If you harm Jabari or even threaten him, the same promise I made earlier applies.” Only an idiot would get rid of Jabari. Jim knew how much of a cornerstone he was to the whole operation. Even he was aware they wouldn’t have stood a chance in the beginning without him. Surely these idiots could figure that out._

_“Sure, whatever. Just leave.”_

_Jim sent them one last glare before he backed away. Not taking his eyes off them until they were no longer in sight. If this is what they wanted, fine. He’d do what was best. They should be self sufficient without him anyway, and this way, he was free._

* * *

 

A loud explosion rocked the canyon walls, jarring everyone from their sleep. Before anyone could get their bearings, Jim was up and moving with a handmade bow gripped in his hands, unperturbed by the situation. “Everyone, escape into the tunnels, I’ll hold him off,” he announced. He didn’t even check for conformation before running out.

He slung the bow across his back, his feet hitting the ground without sound as he ran. He had a stone knife already out at the ready which he put into his mouth when he started to climb one of the ladders leading to one of the higher homes in the cliffs. Darting over gaps and scurrying across thin ledges, he stopped at a small ledge. In the dark he was hard to see, but the fire illuminated the place where he had set his traps. On the ledge, a pile of arrows awaited him. He drew the first one, scanning the area.

He caught sight of one man, his leg had been blown off, and he was crawling through the dirt towards his companion. He let his arrow fly. It pierced the chest of the uninjured man, probably just missing his heart, but a kill shot none the less. He fired his next shot at the crippled, aiming a bit too high. The arrow penetrated the man’s skull. They both collapsed into the dirt at the same time.

It looked like a scouting unit, probably checking to see if the natives had anything they could use. As Jim thought, the guilt that had been keeping them away didn’t last long. Still he spotted three bodies. Two he killed and one who had been caught in his explosion. If he was sending out a scouting unit, he would usually send out four. Three if it was an emergency or lacked man power. He wasn’t disappointed. One had slipped past his trap, and he had found him.

Jim barely had time to dodge the knife coming down at him. He blocked it with his forearm, causing the bow and several of the arrows to topple over the ledge. The knife went through the tissue protruding to the other side. A grunt barely left his lips, as Jim’s right hand felt for his own knife that had fallen from his mouth during the attack. He tore his left arm away, knife still firmly lodged in it. The knife tore through more muscle, but the man who wouldn’t relinquish the hold on his knife, followed it, leaving him open.

The captain stabbed his chest, twisting as he pulled out to follow through with a slash across his throat. The attacker’s hold slackened on his knife, his body going slack as he fell forward onto Jim. For good measure, he kicked the attacker’s body over the ledge and listened for a satisfying crunch.

He laid there, catching his breath and waiting for the adrenaline to subside as well as listened for any other intruders. He heard approaching footsteps. Sitting up, and ignoring the pain, his fingers searched for his bow. Cursing, he tried to find a phaser. Anything. All he had were the two knives. Well, he survived worse odds.

He pulled out the knife in his arm without so much as making a sound, his eyes surveying the area. With just as much speed and efficiency, he made his way back down to ground level, staying in the shadows, accept, the footsteps were coming from the direction he had come from. It didn’t even occur to him that it could have been his crew until he had grabbed Lieutenant Uhura by her hair and had a knife to her neck.

“Jim!”

“Captain!”

A part of him must have known deep down even if he didn’t consciously know. His hand didn’t follow through with giving the Lieutenant a Columbian necktie after he had grabbed her. He knew his people. Would never actively harm them if he had his hands on them whether he knew what he was doing or not. His kids would have known that. Would have known that the rush from a life and death struggle would send the participants on edge and would not have approached until rationality took over fighting instinct. And they knew that Jim had enough control that even in that state, he would never harm them even if it seemed like he wasn’t all there.

He released Uhura with a sigh, not seeing anything particularly wrong. They had startled him and hadn’t followed orders. It was only expected that he react in that way.

Decker grabbed the lieutenant’s arm, pulling her away from Jim as if he would attack again. Even McCoy was looking wary of him as Spock supported him.

Why were they staring at him like that?

He felt Luca take his hand standing behind him.

“Captain, what happened here?” The commodore asked, surveying the wreckage, his eyes calculating.

“They set off my trap. I came and finished them off. “

“You caused the explosion?”

“Yes sir.” Jim said, back straight. “There is a sulfur deposit close to where we found you. I managed to create some gunpowder with it and created a mine. Two got caught in the explosion, one died instantly, I managed to finish two off with a bow and arrow and the fourth caught me by surprise. I managed to get him before he could get me,” Jim reported.

Decker frowned then turned to Commander Spock. “Commander, what is your mission?”

Spock was rigid, more so than usual as if he didn’t want to answer the question. “To survey the planetary situation and rescue the survivors,” he replied.

“Are preemptive attacks part of rescuing the survivors?”

Jim, his brain finally catching up to him, panicked. “With all due respect sir, you have been here long enough to know what scouts are for. Guerilla warfare and scouting out for food which tend to be one and the same.”

“Or perhaps they were searching for help, Kirk. They had done nothing to us. Not only are you setting deadly traps, but are actively hunting those who you’re supposed to be helping!”

“I am keeping us alive!” he shouted back, eyes flashing dangerously. “I know innocent people and they were here to either kill who they found or report back to send more.”

“Captain. I believe you are emotionally compromised and can no longer handle the responsibility of this mission,” Decker stated. “Doctor, what is your diagnosis on your captain? Do you think he’s emotionally compromised?”

“I am not emotionally compromised!” Jim yelled back. He turned his eyes onto his friend for help. “Bones?”

“Well, all things considered, I think everyone’s emotionally compromised,” he grumbled. “I mean with the hell hole we’re in─”

“Doctor,” the commodore interjected. “I want a straight answer and be aware that you are held to the oath of being a Starfleet officer and a doctor. Now, what is your assessment?”

McCoy looked guilty, closing his eyes before he spoke. “The captain has shown emotional instability with large amounts of anxiety, paranoia, and survivor guilt with addition of withdrawing from his friends, difficulty sleeping, and obliging obsessive compulsions.”

Jim’s eyes became wide and hurt as he listened to his best friend list off everything wrong with him.

With haste, McCoy tried to add, “But due to the circumstances and Jim’s past, I believe he is fit for─”

“I believe you made my point that Kirk is unfit for command, doctor, thank you. As the highest in command, I am relieving you of command.”

Jim looked at Spock, almost helpless. “Spock? You don’t agree with them, right? Tell them I’m fine.”

Spock was looking off into the distance. “You are a good leader, Captain.”

Spock didn’t say it. Couldn’t say it. Cause Vulcan’s couldn’t lie. Spock believed . . .

Jim grew angry and the hurt was searing in his chest. “Traitors. All of you traitors.” He glared at them, taking a step forward. “I will not lose command!”

“It is done, Kirk!” Decker bellowed back. “You will step down from your command of this mission or do you wish to lose your title of Captain too?”

“No,” he ground out. He turned his hurt eyes to Spock before they grew angry. “But I won’t let you get them killed either.” He picked up his bow.

“You are a danger to us, Captain, and to any potential survivors. Are you going to stand down?”

“Oh, I’ll stand down,” he whispered, picking up the phaser. “Do what you want.” Jim turned to leave.

“Spock, do something,” McCoy hissed.

Spock took two steps forward when Decker’s voice stopped him. “You will stay where you are, Commander, unless you will disobey a direct order.” Spock immediately stopped.

Jim shot him a look over his shoulder as he kept walking, Luca at his heels. He turned and kneeled in front of the boy. “Stay with them.”

“No. I don’t trust them,” he said, clutching Jim’s shirt. “They don’t trust you.”

“Trust me. Stay close to Spock,” he turned heated eyes onto his first officer. They couldn’t hear him with the distance, but he was still pissed at them. He wanted them to know.

“He betrayed you! He was supposed to be your friend, and he’s letting you go!”

“Luca,” he said calmly, putting his hands on his shoulders. “Spock is ruled by logic. He can’t go against regulations. It’s who he is,” he said sadly. “But you’ll be safer with them. Spock is protective, and he’s strong. If things go to hell, he’ll come find me and protect you.”

“Jim,” Luca’s eyes watered. “Don’t leave me. Please. Don’t leave me by myself again,” he said through a choked sob.

“Luca,” he said softly. “I will be back. Stick by Spock’s side. He won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

The boy wiped at his eyes. “Yes sir.”

“Good boy.” Jim watched the child make his way back to them, sticking next to Spock’s side. He nodded at Luca then Spock before continuing on his way, not looking back.

* * *

 

_It was easy surviving on his own. He didn’t have to worry about anyone but himself, it was simple to acquire food for one, and he didn’t have to share, but all too often his thoughts drifted back to the children. How were they doing? Did anyone die? Were they happier without him?_

_He had been tempted to check on them. Repeatedly. Each time he refrained. They didn’t need him. It was stupid to worry. He was alone now. He had to accept that._

_It was just another day of survival, when Jabari ran through the trees. His shoulder was bleeding heavily if the blood soaked bandage had anything to say. On his good shoulder, he had two phaser rifles. “Jim,” he panted, shrugging off one of the guns. “The camp.”_

_That was all Jabari needed to say. In the next heartbeat, Jim grabbed the rifle, and they were on the move. The camp was only half an hour away. And it was a good thing too. Jabari lead him to a hill overlooking the camp and both climbed into a tree, rifles handy. Through the scope, he could see the chaos, and his stomach churned. Bodies everywhere, both guards and his kids._

_He sniped._

_He took out whoever came into his path while Jabari shot anyone who tried to take a shot at Jim. In the confusion, Jim and Jabari took out most of the unit, and when there was only a few left, they scurried down the tree and helped the survivors kill them off, but the damage was done. The camp was destroyed. Most of the supplies lost._

_There were 29 when Jim had left. Now, there were only 14. Among them …_

_“Aramis,” Jim said, seething. “What the hell did you do!”_

_“I …I…” He was shaking, his body bruised and bleeding, but overall okay. “The enemy camp was right there. They had so much food. I just thought─”_

_He was struck with the butt of Jim’s rifle, breaking his nose. “You fucktard! Do you know why I kept saying no? Because we’ve been a thorn in their side. We had drawn too much attention to ourselves, and so they set a trap! It was obvious! With that many goods, they should have had at least triple their guard. It was too damn easy. They just wanted you to take it. They wanted to know where our camp was!”_

_Aramis looked up in tears. “I didn’t know.”_

_“I fucking told you! You just didn’t want to believe.” Jim was putting his finger on the trigger. “And what the fuck Jabari! You let them?”_

_“I disagreed,” he said calmly, the only one not afraid of Jim’s wrath. “When they took the food, and they decided to head straight back to camp, I came to seek you out as quickly as I could.”_

_Jim looked around, taking in the destruction. Of the wounded and of the small terrified faces._

_He looked back at Aramis. He felt nothing but rage. A need to wrap his hands around that thin neck and strangle him. “Leave.”_

_“Wh-what?” Aramis looked up startled. “You can’t kick me out. I’ll die out there by myself.”_

_He pointed his gun at the boy’s legs legs. “I survived, and you put my kids in danger. Got them killed. I suggest you leave before I beat you until you can no longer breathe.”_

_“But-“_

_He fired in between his legs. “Five. Four.” The teen scrambled to his legs, running for the tree line without another warning. “And I suggest,” he said raising his voice. “That any other teen who went along with Aramis leave before I find you.”_

_Two more scuttled away. He paid them no attention. He should have been here. He shouldn’t have given up his command. They were dead. So many dead. Only eleven left. What had he done? He should have been here._

_“Jim?”_

_Kirk looked at his right hand blankly. Like something inside him was lost or broken. “Get ready to move, take note of all injuries and what we have left.” His voice sounded distant, like he was moving on autopilot._

_“Jim?”_

_“Are you going to take command from me too?” Jim asked quietly, still dazed._

_Jabari stood still for a long time before he whispered, “No.”_

_“Then do what I say.”_

_Jabari bowed his head. “Whatever you say.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I used Klingon and French in this chapter. Don't say I never researched anything to give you quality entertainment. 
> 
> taHqeq means man without honor, someone you can't trust  
> lay'jIH means I promise.
> 
> The French are curse words. I don't actually remember them except the last one means "Fuck your mother." Yup quality entertainment right here.
> 
>  
> 
> COMMENT!! I need to know if people are actually reading this. Cause I totally prioritize my attention on story popularity and Game Over beats this hands down and nothing's happened in it yet.


	13. Even the Strong Cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving, or day after. Whatever. My Thanksgiving sucked as much as I predicted. I made food for one but there was enough for 3 or 4 so I expected left overs. Except, my roommate ate it all so no left overs or even seconds for me. The other roommate got pissed at me for using her damn dishes which equated to two plates. Neither helped me clean the apartment, do the dishes, or cook. In fact, when I cooked, one said, "wow you have a lot of dishes to do," and I'm thinking "you're eating the food fucker. In fact you ate almost all of it so why don't you do the damn dishes." As you can see I have some lingering anger issues which I used for this chapter. If I'm going to suffer, someone has to have a shittier life than me, cause apparently Thanksgiving means, that shit is mine don't touch and give me food. But you didn't come to hear me write a diary entry. Maybe Jabari's, but not mine. Onward to the chapter. (which was self edited 'cause while I don't have a life, my betas do)

_It was dark outside. The overcast of clouds overhead blocked out enough sun to almost simulate night. The rainy season was approaching, and it was approaching quickly._

_Jim didn't care._

_He tossed his rifle to the ground, sitting beside it just outside their camp, keeping watch. He didn't pay attention to the gash in his side that was forming a puddle beneath him or the phaser burns on his arms. He just kept his stare straight ahead, listening for intruders._

" _Jim."_

_The teen didn't react to his name, only grabbing his rifle and positioning it so he could shoot with it in a hurry._

" _James," Jabari called gently as if not to startle him._

_He still didn't acknowledge his partner. He just continued staring into space._

" _You need rest." The older teen knelt beside him with a medkit in hand. When his dark hand grazed the fabric of his blood stained sleeve, Jim flinched away from him._

" _Leave it," Jim grunted, pulling the rifle closer._

_Jabari shook his head. "You're being reckless. More so than usual."_

" _And?"_

" _James."_

" _Don't bother. We're all going to die anyway."_

_Jabari stilled, his eyes narrowing. "Jim, you're just upset over what happened."_

_A dark laugh escaped the younger male, his hands going to his hair to push back the long dirty strands. "Did you know since I started collecting kids, 63 have joined? We've never had more than 29 at one time. So how many of them are left?" His body jerked upright. He seemed twitchy as he stared Jabari down. "I remember every single one of them, every name, every single face, how every single one of them died. I've killed 8 with my own hands. 10 have died of starvation. 7 from sickness. 6 from suicide. 19 from the guards. And lastly, the 3 I kicked out. There are only 10 left that I can protect."_

_Jim couldn't bring himself to recognize the soft understanding gaze directed at him even as the deep voice called his name again. He didn't, couldn't, listen._

" _I never wanted this! I never wanted to be the one to carry all the weight and be in charge, but I took it. What do I have to show for it? They'll all die anyway. In fact, it's cruel for me to even keep trying to keep them alive. I'm just prolonging their suffering." His breathing was labored and his head swam. Why was he even still alive? What the hell was he fighting for? Help wouldn't arrive soon enough to save them. It was all pointless._

" _So what will you do?" Jabari said offhandedly, putting the kit away. "Keep fighting? Keep putting yourself into harm's way, getting revenge against the unit who killed them? All the while hoping that one of them will get a lucky shot and finish you off?"_

_Jim turned his head away. It was as good as a confirmation._

" _Why bother fighting then? Why don't you just stand there and let yourself get shot?" Jabari stood gracefully. "No one will stop you from killing yourself, Jim. We're all too tired to deal with anyone else's problems. So off yourself. Just don't trouble the rest of us with however you decide to go."_

_Jim just smiled sadly, looking back out into the distance. "Maybe I will."_

* * *

Spock picked up another log to add to his steadily growing pile of fire wood. Two days had passed since Jim had left them. The tension in the group had been high. McCoy was still recovering from his illness. Though much improved, the others were wary eating anything that wasn't rations, which they would finish off later tonight.

Luca followed a small distance behind him. Since the captain's departure, the child hadn't spoken much, and the confidence he displayed whenever he was with Jim grew almost nonexistent. He stuck to Spock's side while keeping his distance simultaneously. Luca especially didn't like whenever McCoy, Decker, or Spock stared at him for any length of time. The boy would curl up into a ball in response to the attention. So, Spock in return, kept his gaze away from Luca when he could avoid it.

Luca seemed appreciative of the gesture. Several times, the child had reached out to grab his hand or shirt before pulling away at the last minute, pretending it never happened. Spock supposed it was natural for a human child to want physical comfort. Whenever Jim wasn't treating Luca like a competent survivor, Jim would hold him, sleep beside him, and pretty much act like a big brother or father to the boy when he could afford it. Somehow, Jim managed a balance of coddling the child and expecting things most wouldn't expect an adult to be able to handle. Spock wasn't naïve enough to try for that balance. He would have to be one or the other.

The child reached out again, his fingertips brushing the hem of Spock's shirt, when McCoy came stomping through the underbrush. "There you are, you blasted hobgoblin."

"Doctor McCoy, I see you are in better health today."

The doctor scowled. "Don't give me that, I know you've been avoiding me. What the hell have you been doing the past two days?! Why haven't you gone looking for Jim yet?"

"Because, Doctor McCoy, if he does not wish to be found, we will not find him," Spock said simply, raising an eyebrow in condescension.

"Goddammit, Spock! Jim's out there on his own. Do you have any idea what this place is doing to his psyche? He needs us."

"On the contrary, Doctor. I believe it us who needs him."

McCoy's expression grew thunderous, as if he wanted nothing more than to beat the Vulcan into submission. "So what? You going to leave him out there? Let him go crazy and possibly harm someone else?"

"You misunderstand me, Doctor. I was not referring to Jim or our emotional state. I believe that Jim will be able to survive much easier if we were not with him. In fact, I believe that it is our survival that is dependent on him."

It took a moment for the realization to dawn for the doctor. "You don't trust, Decker."

"I believe that he is more emotionally compromised than he is letting on, and that Jim does in fact know what he is doing despite his actions. After all, he has survived Tarsus while many others have not," Spock said.

"Then why the hell have we not gone after him?!"

Spock gave the doctor a look that shamed him into silence. They both knew why. "While we may not trust the commodore, he is still our commanding officer. Unless we can prove he is compromised, he is still in command of this mission and his orders must be followed."

"I know that." The doctor sighed wearily, rubbing his face with his hands. "But we can't just leave Jim alone either."

"I ask that you trust me, Doctor. Jim is safe."

He looked up with piercing blue eyes. "How do you know that? Some more of that Vulcan mind voodoo?"

Spock only raised an eyebrow.

"Fine. Fine. You better be right." McCoy glanced at the kid, who shrinked behind Spock at his stare. Scowling and murmuring to himself, he left them alone. While it was reassuring that McCoy was feeling better, the doctor's gruff demeanor had not been missed.

Putting the matter aside, Spock continued on through the forest, keeping an eye out for possible food sources. There were berries similar to what Jim had given him as well as some possible mushrooms, but being closer to the source of the mysterious fungus, the risk of getting sick from eating them was significantly increased.

In the corner of his eye, he caught Luca eying his shirt again. "I will not be adverse if you were to grab hold," he said calmly. At the child's confused stare, he amended, "You may grab my shirt."

With a bit of hesitation, Luca grabbed the back of his shirt, fisting the material in his hands. He buried his small face into his back, making it difficult to walk, but Spock allowed it. If he were human, he would most likely be able to give the child the comfort he required. But he was not human, he was Vulcan. If the child was his own, he would have meld with him to calm his mind and ease his fear, but he was not. And Luca was not old enough to consent to such a thing if he were to offer. It sat ill in his stomach that he was unable to help him when Jim cherished the child so much and obviously left him in Spock's care.

Spock was deep in thought on how to overcome the problem when the boy spoke up, "How do you know he's okay?"

With some careful deliberation, Spock said, "I can feel him close by."

A frown pulled at the child's lips. Somehow he managed to press his body closer without tripping the both of them. "Jim says you're in love with Miss Uhura. Is that true?"

Spock almost tripped over a log. He blamed it on Luca inhibiting his movements. "I appreciate Nyota as a subordinate and close friend."

"And Jim? Do you love him?"

Spock stopped walking and tilted his head to see the small child look up with him expectantly with big green eyes. Perhaps he was in more trouble than he previously believed if a small child could apparently see through him. For the first time he admitted his feelings aloud. "I do." After all, it seemed like everyone but Jim knew at this point.

Nodding his head, Luca buried his face back into his shirt. "Are you going to tell him?" he asked with his voice muffled by the cloth.

"I have not decided."

"Don't," he mumbled.

The response was unexpected. Since Spock's feeling had been discovered by the doctor and Nyota, both had been relentless in making him confess. The opposition aroused his curiosity. "Why not?"

With shoulders hunched, and fists clenching so hard, the knuckles had turned white, he whispered, "They'll hurt him. They sound nice, but it's usually a lie. He won't take it seriously." The boy's face was haunted with memories, and he closed his eyes trying to escape them. "The bad men …the ones who…they would say they loved me. Andrea too. I stopped believing them. They hurt me, and they left me. If they did, they wouldn't do that right?"

With care, Spock eased Luca's grip so he would let go, so he could turn around and kneel in front of him. "No they would not."

"Jim will come back, right? He didn't leave me too, right?" Tears streamed down Luca's face as he tried to give Spock a smile of the confidence he had feigned since their meeting. He tried to rub the tears away, but they only seemed to fall faster.

Suddenly, his Vulcan sensibilities did not seem so important. Avoiding direct skin contact, he pulled the child into his arms, intending to let him cry on his shirt. Unexpectedly, Luca, who had shown an inclination to avoid touching others too much, wrapped his arms around Spock's neck and his legs around his waist, forcing Spock to carry him. "No, Jim won't leave you behind. He'll be back. That I am certain."

* * *

_Jim was walking though the forest aimlessly. His hip felt light, the phaser he normally carried was left with the rest of the supplies. The only weapon he had with him was the knife he always carried in his boot. He didn't pay attention to his surroundings, vaguely aware he was in enemy territory. Not that it mattered too much to him. He didn't want the responsibility anymore. He just wanted…he wasn't even sure what he wanted anymore._

_He almost didn't realize that he had walked right into the enemy's camp. Three guards stared at him as he stared back, no one moving at first due to the shock. Jim was first to move, grabbing the knife from the boot and throwing it straight into the middle man's head._

_That got the others moving. They drew their phasers as Jim dove to the side for cover. This was perfect. He could go down fighting. He wanted to. He wouldn't make it simple for them though. He would never give them that much satisfactory._

_One of the two remaining guards ran around the side to shoot him, but Jim was ready, having heard his approach from his heavy footsteps. He threw a rock at the guard's shooting hand, making the shot miss Jim, allowing Jim to get closer and flip the guard over his should and taking the phaser in the process. With quick movements he shot the man on the ground and aimed the phaser at the last man standing._

_The man, who turned out to be a woman, took cover behind a tree. Her leg, however, was still partially visible. With expert aim, he took the shot. He heard her cripple over in pain. This was too easy. Had he become so adept at killing that he could do it without a bat of an eyelash? He didn't feel anything anymore. No guilt, no sadness, and mostly without a second thought._

_He never saw the fourth one coming. Another guard, a big burly man had come out of the tent during the commotion and managed to get behind him. He struck Jim from behind, and he fell dazed with the feel of something warm and wet trailing down the side of his head. His vision went in and out and he felt nauseous. He struggled to his hands and knees only to be kicked in his back, the air leaving his lungs. A weight settled onto his waist and hands wrapped around his neck, blocking the flow of blood to his brain._

_So this was it. He was going to die here, strangled to death. This had been what he wanted. What he had sought out, yet …_

_Panic filled him. He was going to die. The horror sunk in. He was going to die. The adrenaline pumped and the fear continued to consume him._ _**I don't want to die** _ _._

_He fought._

* * *

Jim could hear McCoy stomping around the wooded area from a mile away. This caused the captain to sigh as he continued to sharpen his arrow heads with a whet stone.

He was sitting comfortably in a tree, readying his gear for the night ahead. The past two days he had been keeping an eye on his team from the shadows. He had erased their trail, scouted out the areas around them, and kept an eye on them from afar. This way, he could keep his command even if it was in the background, and he could move around more freely.

From the direction McCoy was heading, the doctor was heading back to the main camp. He packed his gear quickly and efficiently. He wasn't worried about Spock and Luca. Both had picked up his habits. There were less obvious about their whereabouts unlike his friend and Lieutenant Uhura. In addition, the two officers were not suited for this type of world. McCoy was far too kind, something Jim usually admired about him. But in this world, it was just a weakness if it overrode common sense. Uhura on the other hand, just wasn't up to date with everything going on. That was partially his fault as he hadn't exactly inclined to repeat the story of Tarsus for a second time, and he hadn't exactly told them full on details either.

Also, he didn't trust Decker as far as he could throw him. The commodore was leading them back to where they came, back towards the main settlement. The amount of small factions nearby was increasing too. Jim had already taken out one who had discovered his team. The commodore had to have known how dangerous it was. He was after something, the question was what.

Another thing that worried him was Uhura's concern over Decker. She knew something, and Decker was hiding something.

Needless to say, none of that mattered. He would watch over them. He would protect his own.

* * *

_He was losing consciousness and fast. He didn't know how much longer he could keep fighting. It was useless anyway. The man was too big and too heavy for him to fight off. Jim's limbs were just flailing uselessly at this point._

_Just as consciousness was about to slip away from him, a phaser shot pierced the air. Then another. The hold around his neck slackened and the teen coughed and gasped, trying to fill his lungs with fresh air. His body twisted so he was on he could put his forehead to the ground and claw at the earth beneath him. He was alive. God, he was alive._

" _Are you alright, Jiim?"_

_Jabari. Jabari had been the one to save him. The older boy approached Jim, whose body was trembling. Jim barely turned his head to see him, and slowly he sat up, sitting on his heels. When Jim's body wouldn't stop shaking, Jabari knelt beside him._

" _I don't want to die," he choked out, his eyes watering and threatening to overflow. "I got them all killed, and I can't stop seeing blood on my hands." He looked at Jabari, and his tears finally fell. "When did it become so easy to kill? And accept everyone who dies? I barely hesitate anymore when I have to kill one of my own. I just accept it, yet having to bury 15 of my own last week because of them." His hands went up to his hair, fisting the dirty blond hair. "It doesn't even make sense. I can't protect anyone and I fucking hate it. I can't stand it. But at the same time it's so easy to fucking move on. What the hell am I? I'm just another fucking Kodos who doesn't give a shit about life, but I feel like another piece of me dies every time one of my kids dies. I never wanted this. I never wanted to become this…this monster. I should die, but I can't. I can't."_

_Jabari reached out, pulling Jim against him, wrapping an arm around his waist and a hand buried in his locks. With the embrace, Jim full out sobbed into the older boy, loudly and unrestrained while Jabari held him protectively and gently._

_He waited for Jim to calm his crying some before he spoke, "You aren't Kodos, Jim. And you aren't a monster either. Of course it's easy to kill now. You've been forced to do it over and over again. Death is so common around here; you've become desensitized to it. You kill who you have to for survival. The difference between you and most of the people here though, is that you know how precious life is. You have done almost everything to protect those kids. No matter how much pain it puts you through. No matter how much it tortures you. Most of the adults here have only looked out for themselves or immediate family and friends. You took in strangers that couldn't protect themselves. You've become a father and big brother to all of them. It's only natural that it hurts so much when they die, but you also know that you can't stop everything when they do so you keep going because the one's alive need you. You know that. This right now, what you're feeling right now, is just all those feelings you had to put aside, that you have repressed, hitting you at once." He felt Jim start to cry again, but he continued. "You're strong, and you've stood alone this entire time. But even the strong need a break every once in a while." He held Jim closer. "So go ahead and cry as much as you want."_

_Jim took the offer and cried again. He cried until he had no tears left and his head was pounding and his body was heavy with fatigue._

_Jabari picked him up and placed him on one of the sleeping bags inside the tent, tucking him in._

" _You're a bastard, you know that," Jim murmured. "For letting me pull this stunt."_

" _It was the quickest way for you to realize you didn't want to die."_

_Jim's eyelids were growing heavy. "And if I really did die or wanted to die? Did you think about that?"_

" _If you really did want to die, you would have found another way, and I would never let you die back there. I had my rifle trained on anyone who posed a real threat to you, just in case."_

_Jim snorted in disbelief. "Asshole."_

" _You weren't built to give up Jim, and you never will be. It's one of the reasons why you're a good leader. You value your life and of those around you. I knew that, and now you do too."_

_Jim's eyes finally closed. "Still a bastard," he slurred. "Should get back to camp."_

" _You're exhausted, and you don't want the rest of the camp to see you like this."_

" _Could have a concussion."_

" _Probably. If you fall into a coma, I'll still protect you."_

_Jim chuckled, already drifting off. "Fucking bastard."_

* * *

Spock carried Luca back to the camp, the child having fell asleep in his arms after crying. Uhura's and McCoy's eyebrows shot up to their hairline at the sight. For Spock carrying a kid and for Luca actually able to fall asleep while someone besides Jim holding him.

"What brought this on?" Uhura asked.

"The child was emotionally distressed and grew fatigued once it had passed," Spock answered. He looked down at the makeshift bed and pondered the success rate of being able to remove the child from his person and place him in bed without waking him. The chances seemed rather low, and he wasn't eager to wake him.

"So he cried then fell asleep," McCoy rolled his eyes. "Great, so the mini version of Jim also got attached to the hobgoblin."

Uhura smacked his arm, though a smile played on her lips. "Leave him alone. It's cute."

A soft blush dusted Spock's cheeks. He decided to take the risk and try to put the child to bed.

"Great, surrounded by hobgoblin lovers."

"Doctor, as I stated previously, if the term hobgoblin is a derogatory reference about my ears─" Spock started, clearly trying to change the subject

"I'm not being xenophobic, Spock. You're the only hobgoblin out there."

Spock decided to ignore the doctor and focused on putting Luca to bed. It appeared Luca was more tired than he thought as he did not wake up as he normally would have.

"I'm glad you all made it back safely," Decker came out from the trees, smiling. "I had a little run in with another group. I was worried that maybe they found you guys."

"We are quite safe," Spock said, training his dark eyes on the commodore. "May I ask what happened to the attackers?"

"I stunned them with the phaser. I came back after making sure no one followed me."

The light mood in the camp grew heavy in an instant.

"If I may ask, Commodore, what is the current plan? If I am correct, we are heading back toward the main settlement," Spock stood once Luca was tucked in. "Which would put us closer to the infection."

"We need parts to complete the communication device. This would be our best chance on finding something useful than some crude crystals that may or may not help."

Something was off. It wasn't that he was wrong, just that it wasn't the whole truth. "Which isn't possible unless the field around the planet is lowered which, at the moment, is not possible with our lack of man power and resources."

Decker didn't look too happy with the way his eyes narrowed just slightly, but he still took an almost carefree approach. "I have a strategy, Commander Spock. Trust me."

"Trust, Commodore, is earned. Something you have not yet gained. However, as you are our superior officer, we have had no choice but to follow you."

Decker scowled this time. "Careful, Commander. That almost sounded like insubordination."

"I merely state the truth, Commodore."

"Even so, Commander, I would watch what you say." Decker's gaze roamed over the others. "Anyone else want to comment?"

No one said anything.

"Alright then. Now let's see what we can scrape together for dinner.

* * *

" _We can't survive if this continues," Jim said walking back to the camp with Jabari. There was no evidence of his little breakdown, and his head had been wrapped. Unfortunately, the camp Jim had walked into didn't have anything useful for them to use besides more bandages. No medicine to go with it. "If this drags out for too much longer, we will all die."_

" _I know, but there is not much we can do."_

_Jim frowned at Jabari's words. What could they do about it? "Not necessarily," the words came out slowly and cautiously. "Kodos' mansion. They could have tools there we could use."_

_Jabari looked over at his friend. "That's a suicide mission."_

" _Yeah, but we're running out of options and food to eat. Almost everything is contaminated. Almost nothing is edible, and we're finding less and less rations. We're going to starve if we don't do something, and I rather die than resort to cannibalism."_

_Jabari sighed softly. "I had a feeling it would come to this."_

" _So you in?" Jim asked with hard blue eyes. After the little episode Jim had, he had gone back to being that unmovable force. The one who stood alone, took on too much responsibility, and where nothing moved him._

" _We will need phasers," Jabari commented, scratching at his bandaged arm._

" _Leave that to me," the teen replied easily. His gaze traveled to the motion, and he frowned. "You take something for it?"_

" _I am fine. Just need to change the bandages."_

_Jim nodded. He knew how itchy a wound got when the bandages didn't get changed. Maybe the new haul wasn't so bad after all. "All right then. Let's get to work."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment!
> 
> Honestly I was surprised last chapter. Chapter 10 and 11 only had 3 or 4 reviews each (3 or 4 of those were from my editors) so I didn't think many read this. I was wrong! So much love! Truth be told, it made my week. It was nice someone actually reads this even if it's not spectacularly written. Every time I post, I reread the posted chapter obsessively and its the only thing I think about for a few days. I really liked the last chapter. So much so I put off Game Over to write the next chapter of this.
> 
> Next chapter won't have flashbacks. There's actually only two themes of flashbacks left. Storming Kodos' mansion and the after math of Tarsus. Everything else will be set in the present now that I have set up everything for it or mostly. You even get to read part of Jabari's diary entry/ book (which if you are my special fanfiction friend you've already read it) that will make you cry. Might even make Spock cry . . . maybe. . . . I haven't gotten that far yet. The City on the Edge of Forever was the inspiration for all that. "A famous novelist will write a classic using that theme. He will recommend those three words even over "I love you."" Sigh, I love that line. Plot bunnies galore! Okay now I'm rambling.
> 
> Leave comments please.


	14. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I totally lied. There is one flashback at the end and one dream sequence...Sue me. And don't yell at me, I totally updated within two weeks, and I updated a different story in between this update and the previous one. So I updated twice in two weeks. XP. Um, not sure how I feel about the writing quality but as my editor lives 6 hours ahead, she's already asleep and I'm impatient. Leave some feedback yeah?

Jim restrung his bow, planning his new route. There was a faction less than a two kilometer to the east. They appeared to have about fifteen people with two groups of three that go out scouting at night for food. They had been getting progressively closer to his crew. He planned to take care of that tonight if they headed this direction again. He tied the quiver he made while staying in the caves to his belt. It was small but managed to hold about fifteen of his handmade arrows.

He was going over his plan for the tenth time in his head when he suddenly pulled the phaser from its holster and pressed it against the neck of the man who had appeared behind him.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Captain," he greeted calmly.

Jim blinked then chuckled as he replaced the phaser to his belt. "You shouldn't sneak up on me. I could have shot you."

"You would not have harmed me. You did not harm Nyota, and you were in a much more agitated state," The Vulcan said logically.

Jim spared him an assessing glance. "You're the second person who didn't even look the tiniest bit nervous that I drew a phaser on you," he smiled a bit. "That same person was also the only one who could sneak up on me like that too." The way the human spoke was vulerable, and his eyes glazed over for a moment, lost in memory before returning to the present. "Who else knows?"

"Luca knows you are somewhere close by, and I assured the doctor that you were alive and unharmed. Only I am aware of how close." Spock answered.

Humming in confirmation, the captain fell into thought. "How?"

Spock actually hesitated. It was only for a few seconds, but Jim knew Spock. Their various missions and games of chess allowed the captain to be privy of his first officer's thoughts. He knew when Spock was trying to come up with a way to work around a question. Still Spock answered, "I noticed our trails traces being erased in areas we had been. I also deduced you would not stray too far from the landing party given your insistence to be in the rescue party on previous mission even if it is not advisable. Chances were high you would be within the vicinity."

They stood regarding each other. Kirk decided not to call the Vulcan out. It was foolish, and he was aware of how much so. Still he moved on from the subject. "Why are you here, Spock? Decker told you not to follow me."

"I did not follow you, Captain. I happen to be out for a walk and coincidentally found you."

A smile crossed Jim's features. "And here I thought Vulcan's couldn't lie."

"You are my captain. As such, I will follow your orders and your orders alone."

The smile turned bitter, "Really? Is that such a good idea, Spock?"

"You have yet to have done anything to lose my trust; therefore, I will continue to, as Doctor McCoy would say, 'Place my bets on you.'"

Jim snorted. "So if I told you to kill someone. You would do it?"

Spock stood unwavering with eyes so intense it made the human look away. "I believe you already know the answer to that."

Indeed he did. Jim thought of Khan, of the footage Uhura had shown him when he wouldn't believe that Spock would become so emotionally compromised over him. Even in Nero's final moments, the Vulcan carried a sense of humor over deciding the Romulan's fate, albeit a dark sense of humor, and that man had destroyed his planet, killed his mother. Knowing what Spock had done for him, and that Spock would trust him so completely even though he continued to emotionally compromise him again and again, made the captain think that perhaps Spock had the right idea to distance himself from Jim originally.

"I can't let you go that far for me Spock," he whispered.

"Cap-… Jim… I understand that the events that occurred on Tarsus IV and the actions you had to take to survive them are far beyond my comprehension without experiencing them myself. I also understand that you do not wish for us to know or repeat those actions. However, I ask that you do not distance yourself farther from us."

Turning his back to him, Jim sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "You don't know what you're asking of me, Spock."

"Are you reluctant because you truly believe that I…we cannot handle it, or is it because you are afraid."

Jim's body snapped to attention, his eyes blazing. "What?" he growled.

"You are afraid that we will see you as you once were, and we will not accept you as we once had."

"Let's make one thing clear," Jim's voice dropped lower, almost threatening. "Everything I'm doing, everything I did in the past, I don't regret a thing. I'd do it all again if it came down to it. But it doesn't mean I want you guys to do what I had to. Once you commit those sins, Spock, it doesn't ever go away."

"You cannot take on the world alone, Jim," the words were soft, almost gentle. Brown eyes, finally looked away from fiery blue in a submissive gesture, and Jim eased. His authority wasn't being questioned, and Spock wasn't trying to undermine him. He was just trying to help.

"I know," the blond sighed, releasing his anger. "Look…I'll think about it, alright? If I think I'm in way over my head, I'll come to you."

"That is acceptable."

Jim was about to leave when he remembered what he had wanted to say to Spock. "And Spock?"

"Yes Jim?"

"About Luca, think of me as his guardian okay?"

Spock thinned his lips. "I do not understand."

"I'm trusting you to look after him. I'm giving you permission to do what you think is best while I'm away. So don't hesitate." Jim disappeared into the forest before Spock was able to question him further. He had some business he had to take care of.

* * *

Luca shot up from his bed of blankets, panting heavily. His eyes were crazed as he looked from one place to another desperately, searching. He wasn't there. His heavy breathing grew ragged as he looked more frantically. Where was he? Neither of them was there.

McCoy, who had been up keeping watch over the camp, went to the boy's side, his fatherly instincts kicking in. But once he got within a foot of the young boy, the child, scrambled back frantically, throwing himself up against the trunk of a tree, shivering violently as he held himself, eyes shut firmly closed.

McCoy frowned and tried to approach the boy cautiously. "Hey, Luca. What's wrong, kid?"

He quickly stopped his advances when Luca began shouting at just the light touch on his arm. "Don't touch me!" He screamed. "I promise! I'll be good! Just stop it! It hurts!"

The doctor backed away, realizing that his presence was only making Luca worse. Uhura had also woken up from the screaming, and he glanced at her, asking her if she could try to calm the boy. Both stopped however with Luca's next words. "Jim! Don't let them touch me! Help me! You promised they wouldn't touch me anymore," he whimpered, curling into a ball.

Decker emerged from the forest, having returned from being on watched. In a harsh whisper he snapped at them. "Get him to be quiet! He'll give us away," his eyes was searching the trees around them frantically, searching for any attackers who might be hiding in the shadows.

"What do you think we're trying to do?" McCoy growled. "If we get near him, he gets worse."

Spock chose that time to return as well, slightly out of breath. He had heard the screaming and sprinted as fast as he could back to the camp. He had thought there was an attack. Seeing Luca, he was almost certain an attack would have been easier to handle.

Slowly he approached the child with the same caution that he had given Jim when he had just killed their first set of attackers. Unlike with McCoy, Luca allowed Spock to get closer. He even allowed the Vulcan to kneel at his side. Spock reached out to touch him. Luca made an ear piercing scream and suddenly lashed out, attacking Spock with kicks and swinging arms. Spock was forced to grab his wrists before Luca hurt himself.

Upon contact, he was unprepared for the strength of the raw emotions that flood through his shields. For a split second, he felt every emotion as if they belonged to him. His skin felt bruised from where too big hands had grabbed him. Hands that touched him in places he did not wish them too. Fear. Anger. Hatred. He wanted to kill them, but he was hungry. So hungry. They had food. If he allowed them to touch him, they gave him food. But with Jim, he didn't have to allow it anymore. He didn't have to accept it anymore. But Jim had left. He wasn't here anymore. It was only a matter of time before it happened again, but it hurt so much, but he also didn't want to die.

Spock let go as if he had been burned as the emotions flooded his psych. To shocked to even rely on his Vulcan training to keep them out. It was like Luca had been reliving the past in his mind. Every unwanted caress. Every bit of fear and hatred. It was almost enough to make Spock lose his lunch as bile made its way to his mouth. He forced it down through sheer force of will.

He grabbed for Luca again before the child could get too far away from him. The action made the child panic, redoubling his efforts to escape. Spock wouldn't let him. Pulling him closer, he instinctively put his fingers to the boy's meld points. It was a light meld. He did not wish to fully enter the child's mind and invade his privacy; however, he did as what a Vulcan parent would have done. He pushed back the bad memories, muting them from the forefront of Luca's thoughts, and pulled up the feelings of calm and comfort, the ones Jim induced when he was present.

Luca fell into Spock's arms when the Vulcan pulled his hand away, and Spock caught him, allowing Luca to rest against his chest. The child didn't fall asleep, but his body was too exhausted to move. The Vulcan didn't mind however and settled against the tree so Luca could rest.

Decker moved closer to them a soft look on his rapidly aging features, but forced to stop when Luca he began to whimper. Obviously noticing he would unable to approach, he said, "I know it's hard, but try to stay strong, kid. Have to get over it for now. At least until we get out of here." Turning his eyes to Spock, they glinted dangerously. "Commander I need to have a word with you." The commodore's eyes flickered to the child in his arms. "In the morning. Don't wander off again." With his message delivered, Decker left the camp, assumingly to resume his patrol.

Silence fell over the camp along with the heavy atmosphere. The only sound was the occasional sniffle and soft breathing from Luca, who had attached himself to Spock, snuggling into his chest.

McCoy was the first to speak. He stared into the small fire they had made earlier, watching the flames grow weaker as the night wore on. "Jim, used to get those type of dreams. Back at the academy. He'd wake up disoriented, and not have a clue where he was. It was mild in comparison though. He seemed to snap himself out of it after a minute. He could even go right back to sleep like it never happened. I guess I never realized how strong Jim was after seeing the real thing."

Spock held Luca tighter, resisting the urge to say it was because Jim had been on his own. That there had been no one to help him through it and had learned to deal with it himself so he could continue on with his everyday life.

"Do you two mind telling me what's going on?" Uhura placed her hands on her hips, staring down the two men. "I know you two know what's going on with Kirk."

McCoy and Spock glanced at each other unsure if what they should tell her and how much. In the end, Spock was the one who spoke, telling her the things Jim had told him and McCoy together. Nothing more.

When he finished, she sat awestruck at both Jim's passed and the severity of the situation. "I didn't realize…" she faltered, unsure what to say.

Luca buried his face into Spock's neck, giving Spock whispers of his emotions through the constant contact. It was peculiar but the Vulcan was certain he felt a growing dislike towards the Lieutenant and a hint of condescension. _Obvious Jim was a survivor. Stupid. Spock and Jim good together._

Spock tried to ignore the last part, but he hypothesized that the boy's opinion on Jim and Spock's relationship influenced how Luca felt about the Lieutenant now. The more pressing matter was that Spock had been unable to meditate since Jim decided to, as the doctor put it, "become a vigilante". Partly because of Luca's sudden attachment and the other being he could not truly enter a deep meditation if he needed to remain alert and act within a moment's notice. The result was showing. His shields were not at acceptable levels and keeping stray thoughts out, for example Luca's, was becoming increasingly difficult.

"I suggest we rest. In 2.43 hours, it will be dawn."

McCoy and Uhura listened to the Spock's suggestion, falling asleep within minutes of laying down. The boy remained wide awake, listening to Spock's soft breathes and feeling the steady heartbeat against his side. Sleep was far gone from his mind. Nightmares followed sleep, and Luca was not ready to face them yet, so Spock didn't push.

"Spock?" Luca whispered.

"Is there something you require?" Spock asked, equally as quiet.

"I," he stopped. Slowly, he sat up in Spock's lap. His cheeks were still flushed red as was his nose which he wiped with his sleeve before meeting Spock's eyes. "I'm sorry. For crying….I've…I'm a burden." His face filled with determination. "But I promise, I won't cry anymore. So…please don't be mad at me."

Spock blinked then lightly shook his head. "You are not a burden. It is natural for humans to express their emotions, just as it is necessary for me to control mine. It is I who should apologize."

"For what?" the boy asked.

Jim had once told Doctor McCoy that it was necessary to keep Luca busy. Since Jim had left, they had done nothing but coddle the boy, leaving him with only his memories to dwell on. Jim knew this. That was why he had anticipated Luca's episode and given Spock permission.

"It is of no consequence. I plan to scavenge for food in the morning. Would you like to accompany me?"

A big grin graced Luca's features, and he nodded frantically. "Yes!"

"If you are to accompany me, you require sleep."

The grin fell and horror ghosted over his face. Nonetheless, Luca settled down in an attempt to sleep. Once he began to drift, slender fingers met with his psi points, bringing forward the calm once again to ensure a peaceful resting period.

Spock fell asleep soon after.

* * *

Jim watched the camp fall asleep from a distance. Spock really was good with kids whether he wanted to admit it or not. He had made a good decision leaving Luca with him.

The entire scene worked out in his favor. Uhura was now more aware of the situation, though he did not like the look of pity that had marred her expression, and she was now more prepared.

He wanted to follow Decker, see if he was merely patrolling or up to no good, but the camp was essential unprotected right now if Decker was up to something, so he stayed.

In the morning, he'd try to find some meat for them. For now, he'll watch and he'll wait, awaiting his chance, and catch a light nap somewhere in between.

* * *

_He wasn't going to make it. He couldn't dodge. This was going to be the end._

_Jim was on his knees looking up as the finger on the phaser pulled the trigger. It was like everything was happen at slow motion. The world around him was a blur. The red beam exited the nozzle heading straight for him. He closed his eyes awaiting his final moments._

_Warm blood splashed onto his face. He was afraid. He knew who was standing in front of him, who had taken the shot for him. This moment was what had haunted him the most since leaving Tarsus, and he knew no matter how much he wished otherwise, it wouldn't go away until he opened his eyes and faced it._

_He expected dark skin, a tall, lanky body of a teenager and calm, warm, golden-brown eyes, staring down at him while red blood stained the dirty rags they called a shirt. In its place was pale skin, a tall lean, muscled body, pointed ears, shiny black hair, and calm, warm, chocolate-brown eyes staring down at him._

* * *

Morning came all too soon. Spock was up before the rest of the group though it was likely they would wake within another hour. The sun was barely over the horizon, the air cool and the grass wet with dew. Spock placed Luca under the covers after separating the young boy from his person. He estimated approximately 15 minutes before Luca woke from his lack of presence. That was just enough time to go to the restroom and see if Decker had returned from his patrol.

After relieving himself, he followed the trail Decker had left during his patrol. It was difficult but easy relative to trying to find Jim. It seemed Decker had spent majority of his time away from camp. The trail was cold and there was no sign of wear nearby. The commodore hadn't kept a constant route nor had he been close enough to return to camp in an emergency.

Nearing the 20 minute mark, Spock wondered if he should turn back. There was a possibility that his superior office had run into trouble and needed assistance, but Decker could have just wandered off on his own as well. He couldn't leave his comrades defenseless for any length of time even if Jim was watching nearby.

He continued on for another five minutes. He turned around, about to head back to camp when he heard voices. One of them was Decker's. The other Spock had difficulty hearing. Carefully, he approached the source.

Decker had a man pressed up against a tree, forearm pressed against the man's throat and a phaser pressed firmly under his chin. "I'm losing my patience," Decker growled. "You get one more chance before I kill you, now tell me. Where are they?"

The man smiled darkly. "We ate them. They were a little gamey, but hey, better than starving."

Decker struck the man's with his phaser, causing the stranger to fall unconscious. The commodore had a crazed look in his eye, filled with disgust and hatred towards the man.

"Commodore, I have been searching for you," Spock said, making himself known.

Decker turned to face him, giving a lopsided grin, and ignoring the body just a foot behind him. "Spock, perfect timing, we can have that talk."

"Indeed, Commodore," Spock said carefully.

"I was thinking that with the five of us, we could sneak in to the main encampment. I couldn't do it by myself, but now we have just enough people to possibly make it work. With that Vulcan brain of yours, we can come up with something. Then we can lower the shields around the planet and─"

"I am relieving you of command as you are emotionally compromised," Spock interrupted.

The smile dropped and anger radiated off of Decker. "I am not emotionally compromised."

"You have just proposed entering a heavily fortified area with only four officers and a child. In addition, you have left the camp unprotected. As of now, I am relieving you of command."

"I am not emotionally compromised," he growled. "What about you? You wondered off last night as well. You could have announced our presence to enemies nearby."

"I will not say I did not leave the camp last night; however, I was close enough to camp where I could hear Luca's distress and returned within two minutes. Not only are you too far away to not be aware of any danger that may have befallen the camp, but you are too far away to be of any assistance should you become aware of the situation. You have and are endangering those under your command with your actions in what appears to be a search of vengeance. Therefore, it is necessary to relieve you."

"And if I won't step down?"Decker glared, stepping up to Spock.

Spock wasn't intimidated, he merely raised an eyebrow. "Then I will have to forcibly remove you from duty, Commodore."

There was no retort from the commodore. The man scowled at the ground, clearly agitated, but unable to find a way out of his predicament.

He had been away long enough. Spock left to return to the camp, knowing that everyone was probably awake by now and wondering where he was. Perhaps he could convince Jim to return now that he was in command. It would put Doctor McCoy and Luca at ease, and Jim could come up with a ludicrous plan, that would somehow work despite the odds, and fix their situation. It was where Jim belonged.

As he suspected, Luca was already wide awake. He was tense and unnaturally still until he saw Spock. Relief spread through the boy, and he gave Spock a tentative smile. "Good morning, Mr. Spock."

"Good morning, Luca." He turned to face a partially awake doctor, sitting up in his bed, and Uhura making the last of their food over the fire. "Nyota, Doctor McCoy."

McCoy grunted a response, while the lieutenant smiled and said good morning as well.

"Mr. Spock, I think I saw some berries yesterday we can eat. Can I get them?"

Spock was going to say no, but remembered Luca needed to be given responsibilities to keep him functionally. Despite his better judgement he said, "Do not go past the stream."

The child's eyes lit up with determination, and he was off in a second. McCoy looked disapproving.

"Spock, you should eat something," Uhura offered him a plate.

"I do not require it at this point."

Uhura gave him her calling bullshit look which Spock promptly ignored.

Uhura chatted during breakfast about going on shore leave the moment they returned and having a huge dinner full of every dish she could imagine. McCoy added something about going to Risa and getting laid then about how much of a lecture Jim was going to get for ditching them. Uhura helpfully added strange and unusual punishments for the doctor to try. Spock only listened with half an ear, the other half listening to his surroundings.

Luca was taking too long. Spock listened harder. It was too quiet. He didn't even think Jim was nearby for how quiet it was. Unease crept up the base of his spine, searching for any sound. What Spock heard was five sets of heavy footsteps.

Without warning, he hoisted his two companions to their feet, shoving them towards one direction. "Someone is approaching the camp," he whispered to answer their bewildered faces. "I will draw them away. I need you both to circle around to find Luca and head north. I will rejoin you when I have lost them.

Both nodded without further comments or complaints, heading quickly, and noisily, away from their camp. Spock, in an effort to draw attention to himself, ran through every bush and stepped on every twig he could find.

The assailants turned towards his direction and thankfully, the small group didn't split up either, so he continued running, luring them farther away from his companions. He forced his mind to stay blank. He didn't want to wonder why Jim had yet to show himself. Whether Jim was injured or had abandoned them. He refused to think about it. He focused on the now, pushing himself to go faster once he felt he had drawn them away far enough, softening his footsteps and lessening the noise he made.

He jumped over some high bushes and was forced to stop. He had memorized the map on the _Enterprise_ and the geography of the planet. This cliff had not been on the maps. A small fast paced river was down below. He was calculating the success rate if he was to jump and calculated the odds to be less than 13.498 percent.

The five assailants caught up with him and Spock turned to face them. Three were armed with phasers and the other two with knives. They were dressed in civilian clothing with the colony insignia on their shirts. Each assailant had that same look in their eye. A look that said that it wasn't anything personal, just survival. A look Jim occasionally had since their landing on this planet. They were going to kill him.

Spock took a step back ready to jump when Luca came barreling though them with a phaser clutched in his small hand, causing two of them to fall their knees from the unexpected force. Luca shot them both. One had a gaping hole in the head and the other through the chest.

With the two gone, Luca managed to get between Spock and the other three, standing in front of him as if his small frame could protect him from the two other phasers and a knife. But Spock knew as well as Luca, that Luca's phaser was out of juice, and the phaser the one assailant had carried, skidded behind the other three. Spock grabbed the boy's hand, backing away to the ledge. He would protect Luca from the fall. Jim would find him.

Luca's eyes widened a fraction before Spock saw it. Jim came out, running out a knife on hand and a phaser in the other. He sported a long gash across his chest and the skin of his left eye and right jaw was discolored. But there were no signs of pain in his face.

He stabbed the man who carried the phaser in the back, severing his spinal cord, while aiming his phaser at the woman who carried the other. The woman turned to shoot, but Jim was faster, shooting dead center in the chest. The third assailant managed to cross the distance between Jim and himself, wielding his knife with skill. Jim used his phaser to block, but the knife continued its strike downwards and sliced into his already injured forearm. He countered with his own knife, slashing across air as the attacker had dodged backwards.

Jim would win. He already knew that nothing could change that, except…

Just behind the assailant, Jim watched in slow motion as Spock curled himself around Luca, a phaser wound to his chest, the blood quickly spreading. Spock was falling forward, over the cliff, Luca in his arms, and one of the assailants Luca had shot, smirking before he finally died.

Jim's blood ran cold. Running past his opponent, Jim jumped off the cliff after them.

* * *

_Mumbling to yourself probably wasn't a good sign, but it sure as hell beat the deafening silence around the camp. They were held up in one of the old abandoned farmhouses near the settlement. Jim had cleared out the stranglers before he brought the others. It was close to Kodos' mansion and close to the forest where they would stage their final attack._

_For now, he was skinning some meat he had caught on the journey. It was a fairly small wolf like creature, but it was for the very young children who would be staying behind. The four children who were under 10 were going to hide here tomorrow with Kevin in charge. Everyone else was going to storm the mansion. There was a good chance, they wouldn't come back, so he wanted to leave as much behind with Kevin as he could. This was really it._

_He didn't even realize he was grinding his teeth until he felt a calloused hand take the skinning knife from his. He looked up to see Jabari staring down at him with soft brown eyes, and Jim offered a small smile in return. Jabari was the only one he could smile at these days. He…he was his first real friend, and the only one he could count on not to die._

_Still, the boy squatted beside him and said, "Let me help."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please Comment!  
> (And if someone could give me chapter name ideas for this chapter that'd be great)


	15. Life and Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meant to get this out yesterday but work makes me tired. You guys should totally love me anyway. Why? Because I haven't left my bed for even food or water until I finished this chapter. Sadly, I thought the last chapter would get more comments. I mean Spock did get shot and fall off a cliff. I expected angry comments. Sorry Spock, no love for you. 
> 
> In other news, saw the new Star Trek Beyond trailer. I died a little on the inside and spent two hours yesterday on youtube talking about Star Trek, defending the previous two movies and TOS and Benedict Cumberbatch. My major problems though, besides the tons of explosions, Kirk's hair, and there not being a single scene with Kirk and Spock in the same frame.

_Everything was blurry. The water was freezing against his skin, encasing him in what felt like ice. It numbed the fiery pain in his body, but he couldn’t remember how he got injured. Someone was calling out to him. Their katra was reaching out towards him, telling him to hold on, to not lose consciousness._

_He opened his eyes. Jim was reaching for him, his face marred with fear and concern, his hand outstretched, grasping for him, red from his wounds mingling with the crystal green water. Why would Jim be here in this place? Where was the emerald green that was diffusing with the water coming from? There was so much of it. Mingling and mixing with the red. It was beautiful._

_His arms lost their strength releasing whatever he was holding, fascinated with the colors entwining before him. Whatever he had been holding reached back, wrapping around him tightly. Concern. Fear._

_He tried to focus on Jim, but he was gone, like a dream. Had he really seen him?_

_His consciousness drifted again._

_He didn’t know when he left the water. He was no longer shivering. Something in his mind told him that should be bad, but the thought left like whisper. The thing in his arms was leaning over him, screaming something at him, but he could not hear it._

_Jim. His t’hy’la. He never told him. He closed his eyes, drifting off into oblivion. He should have told him._

* * *

 

Jim located the others within an hour of searching. He was angry. Beyond angry. Spock had been right there. He had been within his grasp, but then he got caught within a fast current, being pulled under the water and away from Spock. He was forced to swim to shore before he was carried too far away. He waited to see if Spock would float by, but after half an hour, he had to conclude that either Spock and Luca had drowned or he had somehow missed them.

During his hour trip, his clothes had dried, but his anger was still going strong. The group had moved north and were waiting at the base of the mountain they had originally went around when they were headed towards the rock structure they had spent the first few nights in. The first person Jim saw was Decker.

“You fucking bastard!” Jim struck his face with his fist, bringing the commodore to his knees. “Spock could be dead because of you!” He punched him again.

Decker brought up his arms to protect his face as Jim continued his assault. It annoyed him. Jim kicked his stomach hard, forcing the man to crumple onto the ground, his shirt riding up.

Jim’s eyes widened, seeing the white that covered the commodore’s back and spreading to his stomach. An all consuming anger filled his entire being. In a deathly low voice, he approached the commodore. “I’m going to fucking kill you. You have the nerve to be around my crew with the infection all over you?”

Decker was showing fear, but Jim did not care. He was going to beat that fucker to death. And he tried.

He struck him again and again, ignoring the way his knuckles split and how it aggravated his wounds. A superior was supposed to protect his subordinates, and Decker knowingly stayed near his crew, chancing infection.

McCoy came up behind him and literally pulled him off with much difficulty. Jim was stronger and full of rage. He was pulling away when Uhura stepped in front of him, separating his line of sight from the commodore.

“Calm down, Jim.” McCoy bit out, wishing he had his hypos. “Tell us what happened before you go murdering your superior officer.”

Jim had to tear his eyes off of Decker. The anger dimmed, but didn’t extinguish. “Spock was cornered. Luca took out two of them, and I joined to take out the rest of them, but one of them got a lucky shot in. Spock got shot and fell off the cliff with Luca,” Jim retold the story as quickly as he could, his mind on other things. If he had been faster. Faster taking care of their attackers. Faster jumping off the cliff. Faster noticing them. He clenched his fists. “I jumped off to get them, but they got away.”

“Jesus Jim. Sit down and let me take a look at you.” McCoy finally released him and noticed his injuries. “You’re lucky you didn’t break any bones, pulling a stunt like that.”

“Spock had already disturbed the water, and I was prepared for it. I fell correctly. Spock didn’t. I think his back took most of the impact. He wasn’t moving much,” Jim ground out, remembering the way Spock just stared at him, not moving. Between the phaser wound and the damage from the fall…

“I’m sure Spock’s alive, Kirk.” Uhura said gently. McCoy was carefully cleaning his wounds with the small medkit that had been in their survivor kit. He didn’t even lecture Jim about using his arm as a shield. No need to poke the bear.

He shouldn’t have left the group, Jim thought. If he had stayed, he would have been the one to draw them away. Spock would still be safe.

“Hey, kid. It wasn’t your fault,” McCoy tried to reassure him, but it didn’t help. Jim’s mind was racing, trying to think, trying to decide if he should keep looking for Spock. The chances of him still being alive were slim, but what if he did make it to shore? He would have sported heavy wounds from the phaser and the fall. Would he have survived the hour and a half from then til now? Probably not. The risk wasn’t worth searching for him. If this was Tarsus, he would have been satisfied jumping off the cliff and trying. He would have moved on by now because there were kids waiting for him back at camp. Even now, he had people still alive, well, and waiting. But…

“Commodore, perhaps you should tell us why you were away from camp this morning, and what really happened to you and your crew,” Uhura asked, staring him down.

The commodore’s cheeks flushed red in embarrassment at being caught in his lie. His face was swelling from Jim’s punches, but no sympathy showed on anyone’s face. Slowly, he sat up, looking at the ground in shame. “My crew and I were at the east settlement when the initial outbreak of insanity broke out. We were sent here for training exercises. There were about fifty of us. When the chaos started, the colonists had lost it, was destroying everything and attacking whoever they didn’t seem trustworthy. I took one of the shuttles as a decoy and told my crew to take the transport vehicle to the main settlement. The eventually shot me down, but I managed to eject and land safely. I made my way to the main settlement to meet up with them.”

Horror fell over his face. “The main settlement had been in even worse condition. Completely fortified and killing anyone who came near it. One of my men had escaped the wreckage of the transport vehicle but severely wounded. She told me that anyone who didn’t die in the crash was taken prisoner. I tried to figure out what happened to them but every person I manage to catch tells me different things. They were experimented on, they were eaten, they were beaten to death. All I know for sure is that they are all dead. I…I sent them to their deaths.”

The man was crying, full out crying, and Kirk was annoyed and disgusted by it. Decker was so obsessed with getting revenge he threw regulations and common sense out the window. Jim made horrible mistakes too, but he didn’t allow it to cripple his judgement for too long. But he had also had Jabari and Spock by his side. Spock…

What was he going to do about Spock? Should he keep looking for a sign he was still alive or may have gotten out of the water? Luca could be still alive in any case. Spock had protected the boy from the fall. He felt a bit of guilt that he hadn’t thought of the boy until now. He had been completely obsessed with Spock.

“Captain, what are your orders?”

Uhura’s question snapped Jim out of his thoughts. All eyes were on him. It was his responsibility to keep them alive.

“We’ll check the river bank one last time to see if Spock made it out. If we can’t find him or someone attacks us while we’re looking, then we’ll assume he’s dead and focus on how to get out of here,” he said quietly.

“You sure you want to do that, kid?” McCoy put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s a lot more than what I’ve done for a lot of people,” he looked up at his friend. McCoy looked sad. Sad for him. He didn’t understand why, and truthfully, he didn’t want to know.

Kirk stood up, straightening his uniform. “Let’s go.”

* * *

 

Spock opened his eyes to be greeted with an unfamiliar metal ceiling. Within two seconds of regaining consciousness, his body cried out in pain. He minimized all movement, while cataloguing the damage. He had suffered a blow to the back of the head, two fractured ribs, major bruising on his back, a superficially healed phaser wound, and a leg healed without the bone being properly set. It seemed whoever had saved him had done just enough to keep him from dying.

What was more concerning was that he had not entered into a Vulcan healing trance, and he could not tell if it was because he subconsciously knew there would be no one around to take him out of it or he simply could not achieve it.

He tilted his head to the side to get a better look of the room. It looked to be an office of some sort or maybe a bedroom. There was a large desk and two large bookshelves covering the back wall. There were no windows, and only two doors, which one was probably a closet, and the other had a small camera above it.

There was a person in the room too, a woman in her mid thirties. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a sever bun, and her clothes were clean and proper. She looked down on him condescendingly, but brought a hypo to his neck anyway.

“I see you are finally awake,” she said, taking a seat in a chair by his bedside.

Spock assessed her. She gave off an air of authority, a no questions asked attitude, and a calculating gaze. Spock didn’t ask questions waiting for her to speak. She had wanted him alive for a reason, but he didn’t think it was out of kindness considering the minimum attention given to his wounds.

“You are probably wondering why we saved you,” she said thoughtfully, leaning back into her chair. “The answer is quite simple. Luca is my nephew. He got separated from me with his parents during the initial chaos. One of my men found you and recognized Luca. Luca told us the gist of what happened since his parents died. Since you saved him, we decided to spare your life. For now.”

“I see,” Spock said carefully.

“Until we decide what to do with you, you will stay in this room. You may read or use the terminal, but it’s not connected to any server so you can’t do much with it.” She stood. “If you start trying to search for a way out, trust that we will kill you without hesitation before you succeed. Any questions?”

“May I ask for a name to call you by?” His voice came out harsher than he had predicted. It was rough and his tongue felt too thick for his mouth. The aftereffects from the planet’s water most likely.

“You may call me Shelby. Anything else?”

“Not at this moment.” There were several questions he wanted to ask, but the woman was impatient. He could tell by the way she was edging towards the door, waiting for him to be done. She didn’t care for him. That much was obvious. It was a wonder that she had let him live. Perhaps it was on a human whim. Or more likely, she wanted something from him. Either way, pushing her patience would lead to his death. That he was certain.

She left without another word. Spock could hear an electronic lock and a strong deadbolt engage on the door. He was left alone.

He laid in bed, going over his predicament. Luca had survived the fall and was in an undisclosed location nearby. He was functional; however, his body was in bad shape. He would not be able to run with his improperly healed leg, or fight without opening all of his wounds. He was unable to enter a trance without someone to break him out of it. It was also unlikely he could search the door for weakness or search for a blind spot in the camera’s view without agitating his captors. And the landing party may or may not know where he is, so rescue was uncertain. The situation was not in his favor.

Slowly and with much care, he sat up in the bed, pushing back the pain. All he could do in his condition was wait until someone rescued him or he received additional information to work with.

His eyes drifted to the bookcase. Approximately seven steps away. He placed his feet onto the tiled floor and using the headboard, hoisted himself onto his feet. Pain shot up his leg at the pressure. His pant leg was rolled up to his thigh and Spock could clearly see where the bone had been broken. It was crooked. Doctor McCoy would have to rebreak the bone and set it properly.

The longer he stood, the more pain seemed to overcome his body. His phaser wound ached and burned, and the bruising on his spine was more serious than he had predicted, and his broken ribs made breathing increasingly difficult the longer he remained upright. Those seven steps seemed very far away now.

Determined, he took one step at a time, using the wall for support. Illogically, it felt like it took an eternity to reach his destination. He was out of breath and the pain was becoming unbearable. This was perhaps not one of his best ideas. Still, he had already made the trip. He might as well grab as many books as he could to avoid making another trip too soon.

There was quite a variety of books, and Spock was quite impressed with the collection. It ranged from astrophysics to well known pieces of literature, some quite old and all very expensive as paper books were uncommon. He noted that any book that could give him information on either the situation, scientific reports of experiments done on the planet, or books that might help him escape, chemistry and mechanical engineering books, were not present. They were quite efficient it seemed in limiting any escape attempts it seemed.

He had read the astrophysics books in the collection already, though he grabbed two as he found the articles a fascinating read. The literature he grabbed Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, Stephen King, Thy’lek Shran, all his mother’s favorite authors. He had a fondness for these authors as well as a result.

There was one book that caught his attention. It was a famous recent author with only two books published, but one was required reading in almost every major higher education literature class around the Federation. Spock had not needed to read it as it inserted itself into the Vulcan curriculum after Spock had already graduated. He knew the basis of the story of course. Two soldiers on a mission who got stranded on a hostile planet must survive while they tried not to lose themselves to the chaos around them. He had never bothered reading it because the plot had seemed overused.

He picked up the book. He did not know they even made a paper copy of this book. The book was average size, probably only a little over 350 pages, suitable for light reading. The cover was rather plain too, just a mirror, half covered in grime, nothing else. On the spine, the author’s name and the title were written in plain bold font in gold letters. The back cover didn’t even have reviews from critics on it, only a simple summary. There was nothing that would entice many species to give the book a chance, just word of mouth.

Jabari Quin’s _Drowning Whispers._ Perhaps given the situation, reading it would not be entirely wasteful. He was currently on a hostile planet; perhaps it would give him some insight into his situation though it seemed highly unlikely as it was a book of fiction.

With his stack of books, he returned to the bed, which felt farther away than before, and placed the books on the nightstand. It took careful maneuvering to be able to sit back down, his wounds protesting loudly with every move, and it was a relief once he was settled.

He started with the astrophysics articles, and quickly set his scientific mind in correcting the articles with updated equations and theories, forgetting about his discomfort and _Drowning Whispers_ at the bottom of the stack.

* * *

 

It was almost dusk by the time Jim found something. The green blood from Spock’s wounds had almost been completely washed away and blended in well with the purplish grass. Jim had only noticed it because there was a faint imprint of crushed foliage where Spock’s body had rested, and a slight imprint of small feet in the mud. Spock had been here, as had Luca, but they weren’t alone.

There were a set of heavier footprints. At least three sets that came to this spot. Two sets were heavier leaving then coming. It was safe to assume that Luca and Spock had been picked up, but it didn’t make sense. The colonists had shown themselves to be hostile and killed anything that moved. Luca he could understand. He was one of them. Someone might have recognized him, but why would they take Spock.

Jim wondered if they took him because Luca asked, but disregarded the idea. Most adults wouldn’t listen to what a kid had to say in these types of situations. They’d assume they knew what was best. Perhaps they took him for bait? Or for something worse?

Unconsciously, he chewed on his bottom lip as he thought. The trail was hard to follow, so they did know what they were doing. Only Luca’s trail was easier to follow. The kid wanted to be found again, so Luca didn’t like whoever had found them. His trail didn’t last long as it seemed he was picked up and carried.

Jim grew frustrated as he followed the trail. He lost it several times in places, and he found himself wishing Jabari was there so he could follow the damned trail instead of him. Eventually he did figure out where the trail took him, it lead to the main settlement. The amount of curse words that ran through his head was long as he ran through every one he knew. Again, he wondered why they would take Spock. Everything he could think of wasn’t a pleasant one, and the longer he was with them, the lower the chances of Spock’s survival. The situation had not changed. There was as much uncertainty now as there was before.

Jim went back to his team, thinking things over. He practically alienated Decker as he was forced to stay 50 feet away from his crew, but not completely banished either. He stopped by the river to wash his clothes after touching the scumbag and ordered them to do the same. He was still beyond angry, and he wouldn’t be held accountable if he beat him to death if the commodore got too close.

He told them about the situation, that Spock was alive for now and in the main settlement with Luca. When asked about what they should do, he faltered.

“Come on, Jim. This is Spock we’re talking about. We can’t leave his hobgoblin ass there,” McCoy was pacing in front of him. It had to be the doctor in his friend making him do so, just knowing the great array of injuries the Vulcan had was really unsettling him. If Jim was honest, he was worried as well. Would his captor’s treat his wounds? Or would they let him bleed to death?

“Captain, Spock is inside. If he is able to, perhaps he could lower the shield around the planet,” Uhura suggested. “We could contact the _Enterprise_.”

“If he is able to,” the captain muttered, sitting down on a fallen log. If he was able. But Spock wouldn’t be able. Everything told Jim he should walk away, not take the risk. He should take the time to come up with a solid plan. Take things slow. Leave Spock to his fate to ensure his own.

But he was never one to listen to reason.

“If we do this, we need come up with one hell of a plan.” He sighed, looking up at his crew.

Uhura smiled and Bones slapped him on the shoulder. “Why do you think we let you tag along?”

A smile twitched on the captain’s lips. “How kind of you.” He sighed, standing up. “Well, let’s figure something out before Spock beats us to it.”

* * *

 

Spock had just finished reading through three of his small collection of books, when the door slammed open and a small blur ran across the room and attached itself to his person, pressing heavily against the barely healed phaser wound.

He looked down at Luca, feeling a mixture of relief, concern, and fear radiating off the child. “I am gratified that you are well,” Spock said, watching the woman named Shelby enter the room as well.

“What does gradified mean?” the boy muttered into his chest, not relinquishing his hold on Spock. Luca was putting his body weight on his injured leg, and Spock was trying not to let it show on his expression.

He brushed Luca’s psi points in a way that appeared he was pushing the dirty stands out of the child’s face. He was aware how intently the woman stood watching their interactions, but he could not help but wish to calm Luca from the high levels of anxiety that seem to plague him. “I am happy that you are well,” Spock amended, pulling up tranquil thoughts with the light touch.

Appreciative of the light meld, Luca allowed the calm to wash over him, but it did not relax his body as if alert for an attack.

“He refused to calm down until he knew you were okay,” the woman answered, clearly bristling. “But children don’t care about time and place.”

Luca was a sensible kid. He was smart too. Luca had never once asked for anything since being in his care except to be of assistance. “jagh,” Luca muttered, loud enough for Spock’s ears. Spock knew limited Klingon, just a few words, but he understood that one. Enemy. Luca did not trust this woman.

Spock was so preoccupied with Luca, he hadn’t noticed the plate of food in her hand until she pretty much dropped it in his lap. The plate contained a slab of meat, the outside a bit charred, but still bleeding a bit of red. Spock wondered what animal it was. The animal Jim had caught bled more of an orange color than red.

“I will abstain from eating for now.” Spock’s response only made the woman glare.

“Too good to eat what the rest of us eat? Or does your delicate Vulcan sensibilities not allow you to eat meat no matter the circumstances.”

Spock quirked an eyebrow, “I am merely declining because I am not certain if I am able to eat without regurgitating it due to the extent of my injuries.”

She hummed, her sharp eyes never leaving him as she moved about the room. “I don’t recall there being a Vulcan on the colony before the outbreak.”

Spock looked back down at Luca and readjusted him on the bed. “I was sent with a landing party to assess the situation and request backup from our starship if we required assistance. However, upon arrival, we were attacked and our shuttle was destroyed.”

She clicked her tongue and she gave him a wry smile. “I remember that shuttle. Almost two weeks ago now right? My bad,” she didn’t sound very sorry at all. “Shuttles have been used in the past to bomb our settlement. With a little creativity, we made some anti aircraft weaponry. Amazing what one can do with a lot of time on your hands.”

“You may have sabotaged your only chance of rescue.”

“If what you said was true, Vulcan,” she interrupted, her voice sharp, “your ship would have already sent reinforcements to the same coordinates, and there have been no more shuttles since the crash of yours.”

The _Enterprise_ had not sent another landing party. That was not expected, but the bigger problem was how this all would look to an outsider. It did not bode well, and her hostility towards him was more than paranoia, it was an accusation. That he had been responsible for all of this.

“I am sure there must be a logical reason why my ship has not sent reinforcements.”

“I’m sure,” she replied darkly, taking a seat at the desk.

They all sat in an uncomfortable silence.

Luca was the first to move, reaching over to Spock’s book pile and grabbing the book on top, staring at the cover.

“Do you wish for me to read it to you?” Spock asked.

Luca shook his head, sitting in between Spock’s legs and leaning his back into the Vulcan’s chest. “I’m going to read to you.”

Spock’s eyebrow lifted in surprise, but stayed silent. Luca turned to the first page and began reading “Call me eye-sh-may-le”

“Ishmael,” Spock gently corrected.

The boy snapped around with a loud, “SHHH! I’m reading.” This time both eyebrows shot up at the reprimand. “I can do it by myself.” Settling down, the boy continued, “Call me Ishmael. Some years ago─ never mind how long pre-size-ly…precisely─ having little or no money in my purse─”

Spock listened. He knew most of the book by heart, knew every mispronunciation Luca made, and what words he would most likely struggle with, yet it was so different. A Vulcan child Luca’s age would have been able to read the book flawlessly, but Spock almost smiled when the stubborn child struggled with a word and his excitement and accomplishment trickled through his touch when he figured it out on his own.

No one had ever attempted to read to him since he was a very young child and his mother would read at his bedside. The fact Luca was trying to read to him because he was injured was quite satisfactory. Spock had even forgotten Shelby was in the room until she forced Luca to leave with her after the third chapter. Luca didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t resist. He wouldn’t even allow his aunt to touch him, so he left without argument, telling Spock he’d come back.

Marking the page, Spock placed the book aside. He would let Luca continue if he came to visit again. Looking at the remaining three books in his stack, he picked up _Drowning Whispers._

* * *

 

_Jim peered across the field. It was just for a second. A reflection of light in the trees. They were ready to move._

_He took a piece of polished metal and reflected the moonlight off it in their direction, signaling he was done as well. He waited for one last signal. He saw it somewhere to his left. They were in three groups of two. They were to go in and out. Short and simple._

_Jabari signaled that the coast was clear. Jim took point, leading the way into the east side of the mansion._

_They called it a mansion but it was much more than that. It was a building that served as a multipurpose unit to the colony. In the west wing was a medbay that functioned as the colony’s hospital, the more secure laboratories were in the east wing. The central building served as a sort of place where the governor, his family, and higher officials stayed. It was the central building they were after._

_Jim snuck up behind one of the guards turning around the corner, covering the man’s mouth with one hand and shooting him with a phaser in the back with the other, then quietly lowering him to the ground. Jabari continued ahead to take out another guard._

_They quietly took out the guards working their way inside though a side entrance, waving an ID card they grabbed from one of the bodies. Inside, everything was quiet, just as they had suspected. They heard another person entering the hallway. Jim hid behind a cart that had been long forgotten in the hallway and Jabari behind the column. The elder boy would be out of sight until the person passed by, but Jim trusted Jabari to take care of it._

_He waited for Jabari to move, but he didn’t. He had a glazed over look in his eyes, completely out of it. The person walked past Jabari’s spot and squeaked at the sudden sight of a kid. The scientist fumbled for her phaser, taking aim, but Jim was already moving, shooting her before she could call for help._

_Jim caught the body before it could fall into a stack of boxes and scanned the area nervously, hoping no one else was around to see that. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he whispered harshly. “If you can’t keep your head in the game, then get the fuck out of here.”_

_Jabari closed his eyes, taking a steady breath. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”_

_“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Jabari. If we’re going to get out of here alive, we can’t afford to screw up.”_

_“I know.”_

_Agitated, Jim reached over to switch his phaser pistol with the rifle Jabari was carrying. It was the only reason, he even noticed, being so close to the boy who hardly moved. Jabari was burning up. Frowning, Jim brought his hand to his face, to touch his forehead. His fingers barely touched before the older boy pulled away, but he had felt it. His fever had to be close to 40 degrees. Maybe higher. Now that Jim was paying attention, he could see how pale his friend was, how he was breathing a little too hard, how his body was fighting off a shiver._

_He took Jabari’s arm before he could protest and removed the soiled bandage. The knife wound was an angry red, secreting a clear, milky substance with a lingering odor and not scabbed over properly. It was clearly infected. Badly._

_“How bad is it,” he asked, his voice low and devoid of emotion._

_Jabari pulled his arm away, pulling the sleeve back down to partially cover it the injury. “The infection has spread to my blood stream. I probably have only a day or so before I either go into a coma or die from organ failure.”_

_“Why didn’t you take an antibiotic?” Jim snapped, forgetting where he was._

_“There were no hypos left, Jim,” he said calmly, but the teen wouldn’t have it._

_“Bullshit. We found one yesterday. You could have used it.”_

_“A single hypo wouldn’t have helped much,” Jabari looked at him with a strange expression. One Jim kept seeing more and more often on the older teen. One he could never decipher. “But it was enough to help you,”_

_“There must be something in the medbay.” Jim was already calculating a route, trying to figure out how out of the way the trip would be. “You just have to hold on until then okay?”_

_Another expression crossed over Jabari’s face. This time it was pity. “I’ll try. For now, we have a mission to accomplish.”_

_With a reluctant nod, they continued on. They took out a few more guards and stray scientists as they headed towards the central part of the building._

_Two corridors away from the exit they ran into a problem. A line of guards with phasers, shooting at them the moment they turned the corner. Jabari managed to get across the hall, Jim did not. He heard the group approach them, and Jabari and Jim nodded before heading off in separate directions. Jabari down the corridor he had escaped to and Jim from where they had came._

_The group of guards split between them, but they were slow. He ran down another corridor before they could shoot and then ran into one of the labs, escaping into an attached room and circling around them quickly and heading back towards the direction Jabari had taken. He found two dead guards, and he relaxed a bit. Jabari was still alert and picking off his attackers. They would meet up and finish everyone off before continuing._

_He picked up a phaser off one of the dead bodies. They must have realized quards were not reporting in and mobilized accordingly since an alarm had yet to go off. In hindsight, it was pretty obvious they were working from the outside in and being fairly thorough in taking out everyone. While it was the best plan to work with, it got predictable they would eventually head for the door that lead to the central wing. He’d keep that in mind next time._

_He continued down the hall, taking out any stragglers he could. He slipped into one room when he heard a large group approaching, and waited for them to pass. He took a quick look around the room he had entered. It looked like the guards’ changing room with lockers on the walls and benches in front of them. Sitting on one of the benches was Robert, staring back at him. He was thinner than when Jim had last seen him, but not thin enough to have been starving as Jim and the others had. His hair had been trimmed recently and his uniform clean. Robert clearly had no troubles past meddling children making his life difficult._

_“I thought maybe it was you,” Robert said. He seemed legitimately happy to see him. “Only one kid could cause that much trouble for the authorities.”_

_“Funny, I was hoping you were dead,” Jim replied, readjusting his grip on the phaser._

_“Don’t be like that, Jim. Now that you’re here, we can finally be a family.”_

_A bitter smile made Jim’s cracked lips bleed. “A family. Yeah. Then you can watch them rape and kill me too right?”_

_The guard sighed, his smile falling. “You were there.”_

_“Of course I was. Joanna protected me. You know, what you were supposed to fucking do.”_

_Hurt flashed on the man’s face. “I didn’t want that to happen to her you know. I tried to save her.”_

_“Tried. Yeah right. You weren’t even fazed when you saw her body,” he snapped, pointing a phaser at the man._

_“I saw a lot of death that week. It was hard to feel anything after everything I saw,” he sighed. “You wouldn’t understand.”_

_Jim looked at him incredulously. “Are you fucking shitting me? I wouldn’t fucking understand? I don’t think you understand, Robert. I had to fight to survive, go hungry for weeks before I could find something to eat, watch the people around me die. While you sat in your fucking mansion with edible food, working water, and hanging out with your guards who raped and/or killed my kids. You didn’t even beat the shit out of the people who did that to her!”_

_“No, you did. You don’t think I noticed that the ring of rapists has diminished? You were fine on your own.”_

_Jim couldn’t believe this. Couldn’t believe this man. The one Jim was going to let marry his aunt. The one Jim was kind of starting to like. “You were supposed to protect her.”_

_“Joanna wasn’t all roses either, Jim. Didn’t you ever wonder how she knew how to survive like she did? Or how she knew how to fight? Or how she knew how bad the fungus was before anyone else?”_

_Jim’s mouth went dry. “She didn’t.”_

_“They made the fungus. It was made with military intent in mind. Joanna was one of the best elite operatives as well as a scientist. I didn’t teach her how to defend herself. She taught me.”_

_“Liar!” Jim went to shoot, but Robert was faster. He grabbed Jim’s hand, redirecting the shot, then turned Jim around, forcing his arm behind his back, twisting it._

_“Don’t fight, Jim. I don’t want to hurt you. You’re arm will break if you struggle too much.”_

_“Then it’s a good thing there’s a hospital in the building huh.” Grinding his teeth, Jim twisted, breaking his arm but allowing him to reach the knife on Robert’s belt with his good hand. Surprised, Robert let go of his arm in attempt to grab the phaser, but Jim was faster, motivated by the pain in his arm. He stabbed Robert in the shoulder, making the bigger man stumble back as he cried out in pain._

_Jim pulled out the knife and stabbed him again in the stomach, then again in the torso. Robert fell to his knees, looking up at Jim with surprise and confusion written all over his face._

_The teen returned nothing but contempt. “You may not want to hurt me, but I really wanted to hurt you.”_

_Robert’s body fell to the ground, but not before Jim removed his weapon from his chest. Once Robert hit the floor, Jim didn’t give him another thought, putting his mind to work on the task at hand. He spent too much time playing around. His right arm was now useless. He needed to find Jabari._

_He ran out of the changing room back towards the door that would lead to the central building. As he turned into the last corridor, an elbow struck him hard in the face. Jim fell, sprawled out of the ground disoriented and his nose possibly broken and dripping blood._

_Someone was on top of him, wrestling the phaser out of his hand. Jim fought pathetically, his head swimming too much and his arm too useless to put up a decent fight. He lost the phaser quickly._

_His attacker got off him, quick to put some distance between them when Jim still had his knife. His vision was clearing. It was a woman who had gotten the jump on him. It was a shame too, Jim thought as she pointed the weapon at him. She was really pretty._

_He closed his eyes, not wishing to see his end coming. He heard the phaser go off and something wet and warm hit his face, then heard a short struggle ensue after. It was enough to make him peel one eye open. The first thing he saw was red. Red quickly drenching the shirt of the person standing in front of him, breathing heavily. Dreading who he would see, his gaze slowly traveled up to meet his savior’s face and blood drained from Jim’s face._

_“Go. I’ll hold them off,” Jabari said, one hand holding the wound in his stomach._

_“No,” Jim said shakily, staring at the blood, seeping between the dark fingers. He stood up. “We can fix this.” Feet were approaching. “We’ll get you to medbay. We’ll delay the attack. We’ll─”_

_Jim was falling. Jabari was smiling. It was soft and intimate that reached his golden-brown eyes. “Let me help,” he said softly._

_Jim fell through the doorway, and Jabari shot the controls, short circuiting them and made the door close and lock._

_Jim sat there, staring at the door that separated them. He couldn’t hear anything happening on the other side. The door was practically invulnerable without something much stronger than anything Jim could find. He’d have to exit the building and reenter from the side door they had entered through. There was no way for Jim to get to him in time._

_Standing, Jim kept staring at the door. Kodos will pay. They all would._

_On cue, the fire alarms went off. Shit. He was late. He ran for the exit, one of the keycards in hand. The east wing was sealed off. Jabari made sure of that. The door to the west wing should be closed off as well, trapping everyone in the central building as his team had cleared out the less crowded east and west wings. He waved the keycard, opening the exit to the outside, and followed the path he had laid out for himself earlier._

_He stopped at the edge of the forest and watched as people came out the front door. The first four people who exited the building walked carelessly and ran straight ahead, setting off the mines Jim had created and buried at both exits of the mansions. The following people stopped, watching in dread as body parts rained down from the sky._

_Zander, a tech expert in the group, had made sure all the cameras weren’t working when Jim went out to plant his homemade bombs. Phaser packs could be quite useful. Anyone who was brave enough to go through the minefield was either blown up or shot if they somehow made it. Others stayed in the mansion as it slowly burned, and Jim watched. Watched as they all died. Kodos was in there. He would burn to death with his precious guards._

_The fire raged on until morning._

_Jim reunited with his team. The central team who had started the fire and grabbed supplies had lost a team member as well. They had only lost two. It wasn’t bad, and the haul was good. Jim didn’t know where the 4000 that were spared from the massacre was, neither did Jim care. As long as they didn’t mess with Jim and his family, he’d leave them alone._

_The four of them split into two groups and took care of anyone who survived. At some point, Jim escaped Zander’s company and went back to the east wing. He made his way back to the sealed door._

_Jabari held a sword in one hand and a phaser in the other. He had a couple lacerations and three more phaser wounds in addition to the one Jim had left him with. He couldn’t tell what did Jabari in or where in the world he got a sword from but it seemed appropriate._

_Jim sat beside the corpse, his face blank as he leaned against the wall. Jabari looked peaceful. There was no fear in his face. He almost looked like he was having fun when he died, or at least content. He took out at least four guards before he died._

_Jim looked at the empty hypos in his hand. All of them labeled antibiotics. Even if Jabari survived, there was nothing to save him from the infection that had already spread to his blood. He would have died anyway in another few days. Jabari only kept moving by will alone. There was nothing Jim could have done to save him._

_But it didn’t stop the survivor from feeling hallow. The only thing he could think of was those eyes. Why would Jabari look at him like that? Why sacrifice himself for him? Jim couldn’t understand, didn’t want to understand. What about him was worth saving?_

_“Only you would make a victory feel like a loss,” he whispered, whipping the blood and tears off his face. “So fuck you.” He hadn’t cried over one specific death since Joanna, and he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. His pillar, his rock, was gone. He didn’t know how he was going to be a good leader without him. He had thought he was one kid taking on the world, but he had been wrong. There had been two._

_Standing up, he made his way back to camp. If he closed himself off from everyone, wouldn’t talk outside clipped tones, didn’t say anything when one of the young child died of starvation the night before, if Jim was overprotective to the point of obsession, no one commented. He moved on autopilot and didn’t let anyone support him or come near him again._

_Two days after the burning of the mansion, two days after Jabari’s death, help finally arrived._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment. Please. They are my life water. 
> 
> Oh and Merry Christmas. If you don't celebrate the holiday . . . happy winter/summer vacation days.


	16. Emotions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Yeah took me a long time to get this out. In my defense, I've been working on this sice my last post. I just had serious writer's block until three days ago. Worked on it since I woke up this morning. BTW I do have a request for a story if anyone wants to take it. I am dying for a Mirrorverse fic. A good one. Most of the ones I find are either one shots or pretty much about porn. I am even willing to help someone make one. It's either that or a Naruto and Harry Potter crossover or YuYu Hakusho and Harry Potter crossover. Why you may ask, because I get a kick out of seeing these over powered teenagers going to Hogwarts and pretty much say, this is how weak and pathetic you are. And all the good crossovers (which are few) never finished.
> 
> In other news, I was reminded that Nimoy died last year on New Years eve. In his memory, I watched these two youtube videos, Star Trek || A thousand Years- [Kirk/Spock] by Bellizaria and Kirk/Spock - Us Against the World by Mortal Secret. It really incorporates the TOS ad Reboot series well. And yes, it was Spock's casket that was shot out into space. Both are really touching. I recommend.

_The word love is meaningless._

_As I sit here, contemplating my death and knowing that tomorrow will be the last day I draw breath, I think of him. I think of cold blue eyes that once sparkled with life, with mischief, with kindness for those who gather around him, and it destroys me little by little, knowing that I could be the last straw. The once strong man, now more fragile than glass yet harder than steel, is doing everything he can to soften the blow to his psyche, to keep himself falling into madness, and I might be the last push that breaks him._

_To love is to have the beautiful and the ugly. It can build us up only to destroy us. It can make us rash or brave, make us laugh or cry, bring unparalleled joy or crushing despair. Such a complicated emotion cannot be put into such simple words. It would take a life time to cover the surface. A life time I do not have._

_If I were to tell that man those three words, it would fail to covey an inkling of its true depth, and sound shallow in comparison. Furthermore, such words are not what he needs. In the long run, they would prove to be insincere as I know I am about to die. Because it is selfish to impose my feeling onto him, knowing of the world he already carries on his back. “I love you,” is nothing more than a superficial bandage for those whose feelings are just that, superficial. Those who talk instead of act._

_Pushing my body to sit up, I struggle to stand. The fever has already consumed my body. My joints ache, and the world spins, and I grasp the stone wall before I lose my baring. I refuse to fall. To show weakness. In my last 24 hours, I intend to keep him ignorant of my condition. I wish to give him my love the only way I know how, by easing the pain that is swallowing him whole and soothing his worries if only of a short time._

_As I approach him, he looks at me with those too blue eyes, smiling that smile he always saves for me despite how he is feeling inside. My heart aches every time I see it. I wonder who would bring that smile back to him after I am gone, when he finally breaks from losing yet another person he could not save, and I feel raging jealousy that it will never be me. But I still smile back at him softly, taking the skinning knife from his trembling hands._

_Tomorrow I will die, but he will remain. If I had to say, I could not ask for anything more._

_If I were to say “I love you” now, he would only reject me. Someone who had never been told they were loved, had never experienced it, was afraid of it, would only recoil from such a declaration._

_Given the situation we have found ourselves in, I cannot blame him. We have seen lovers turn on one another, and parents who abandoned their children. We have watched civilized men degrade into nothing but savages. We know, as we have fallen from grace as well. We have stained our hands to keep the innocence in the civilians we saved. We know how frivolous words are. How easy it is to lie, to cheat, to kill. He would push me away, thinking it to be a lie, until I pass and he is filled with regret._

_But I do love him. I love him more than my own life which I will give to him. So I will tell him. I will tell him in a way that also shows my commitment, how deep it runs. In simple words that hides its complexity and true worth. When he reads my entries that I will leave behind for him, he will know then. For now, I will ease his worries and sorrows with these words, so I can see his smile one last time._

_“Let me help.”_

Spock turned the page and frowned. That couldn’t be the end. He turned to the next page, and it was just another blank white page before a short biography on the author. He felt a tear roll down his face and another before he clamped down on his emotions once again.

The book had not been what he had expected. It was indeed about two soldiers, John and Daryl. On a routine mission, they became stranded on a planet when a civil war destroyed their communications and way home. The tale did talk about the fall of civilization, about survival, but Spock was more invested the characters. Daryl reminded Spock of himself while John reminded him of Jim. Reading Daryl’s struggles, his love he kept hidden, the pain of watching John fall into the demons of that world, and the dark emotions he kept suppressed inside, depicted every struggle Spock had now. So close to the man he loved, but never quite touching.

Given the ending, he was sure Daryl died the following day. It was a incredibly unsatisfying ending, but logical. He continued to the biography, curious of who could have possibly imagined struggles so similar to his current situation.

He found out the author was only 15 at the time the novel was written. He was raised by his grandfather and hunted for a hobby. A peculiar hobby as hunting was frowned upon in advanced society as it was no longer needed to procure food and not typically done for sport. As it turned out, the skill was useful for him as he had been trapped on a planet, the same place where the book was written. Leading a group of children, his hunting skills provided food for them. One of those children had stepped forward and published the book in his stead. He apparently died a few days before rescue.

Spock paused, looking at the book in a new light. It was no wonder it was familiar. He could see the parallels between Tarsus IV and the story. It was unlikely anyone else would. Without Jim’s stories of Tarsus, he would not have known.

He returned to the beginning of the book, rereading the first few paragraphs.

_On a bright sunny day, amongst the dying spring flowers, I shot my grandfather from behind. I’m a murderer. It’s the cold bitter truth. So is everything else written in these pages. If you are looking for a charming story, a story about human triumph, about love conquering all, about humanity being a guiding light, put this book down and look elsewhere._

_This story is one I can never tell in person for I would be executed for the crimes I had to commit. It’s about survival, about the darkness that dwells inside every living thing, about the things you would do, the people you would kill, in order to survive._

_But I am getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning._

_The first day I met John Peterson, he laughed when he shot an arrow near my head..._

Spock reread the first two paragraphs again. Perhaps this book was not a work of fiction after all. If he switched a few things around…

The door opened, and Spock didn’t look up from the book, knowing it was someone bringing him food as the smell of meat permeated the room.

“I see you helped yourself to my personal library,” Shelby commented, dropping the plate on his wounded leg. Spock merely glanced up, while the woman seemed to withhold a scowl when Spock didn’t show any signs of pain. Not that it didn’t hurt. Her aim had been quite accurate, but as Jim would say, don’t give the enemy satisfaction in knowing that they had succeeded.

Spock shut down the pain receptors in his brain, though he found himself clenching his jaw, and placed the book face down on his lap, careful not to bend the spine. Gingerly, he placed the slab of meat that had fallen off the plate back onto it and set it aside.

“It is quite an impressive selection. There are many noteworthy pieces of literature and scientific articles,” Spock replied, nodding to his completed pile of books.

“I’m proud of my collection. I spent most of my salary on antique books the moment I started earning credits in high school. I love them.” The woman walked over, tilting her head to read the titles. “An interesting selection you’ve chosen there. Very . . . human.”

Spock considered his options. He sensed a trap, but not answering could have been just as dangerous depending on what she was looking for. “My mother enjoyed these authors very much. I too find the books intriguing.”

“Intriguing… I see. These books are quite famous for their depth in human behavior. Obsession. Tragedy. Fear. Loss of faith. Rage.“ She looked at the book in Spock’s lap. “Especially that one. Fitting you should read it given where we are. I personally used to love Daryl.”

She wandered to the book shelf, pulling off hardbacks. “What do you think of him?”

“I do not understand your query.”

“A lot of critics think of Daryl almost as a saint. Sacrificing so much for the man he loved, supporting him and being a shadow.” She turned back to Spock with an armful of books, and spread them out on the desk. “I think differently. Many overlooked Daryl’s true feelings. The obsession he had for the man he loved. The rage, the hatred, that saturated his being whenever John took another lover. The blood he willingly spilt for him, always trying to please him, always trying to have him.”

“It is human nature to feel strong emotions under stressful environments. What makes the species an advanced race is to withhold from acting on those urges and do what is civilized.”

She considered the books she had spread out and picked up three. “And what is civilized, Vulcan? The morals advanced species have eventually settled upon are settled by the victors of the many wars. Those who wanted peace. But take the Klingons for instance. We are on bad terms with them because their morals and beliefs differs from ours. Fundamentally, the Federation believes that the Klingons are the bad guys as do the Klingons believe we are weak-willed with no honor.”

She looked up at Spock with dark eyes. “It was about human nature. Daryl was the embodiment of it. On the surface, he was a gentleman, but inside he was anything but.

“Those stories are intriguing you say? Reading humans’ darkest moments and reading their downfall after witnessing it firsthand is fascinating? You sure have a sick sense of humor.”

“On the contrary,” Spock said, keeping his gaze steady with her. “I believe reading these stories during a crisis such as this give a frame of reference about what to do, what not to do, what is possible and what is not. As I am largely restricted to the bed, I would prefer to spend my time contemplating the situation I am currently in.”

“Is that so, then tell me, why are you here, Vulcan.”

“I have told you my purpose,” Spock said stiffly.

“How many are in your party?” She asked, picking up three heavy books.

“And what would you do with that information?” he asked.

Shelby stood beside his bed. “I must protect my people.”

“As must I,” he said unwavering.

“Then we’re at an impasse.” She dropped the books right onto his injury. Spock inhaled sharply, making the woman quite smug. “Perhaps I can get Luca to speak. He spent quite a bit of time with you.”

“Luca is an intelligent child. If he has not disclosed information to you, he has a reason to believe he should not.”

“A Vulcan may be resilient against pain and able to resist a mind sifter, but a child not so much.”

Something primal raged in Spock, and it took every ounce in his being to resist jumping out of the bed and strangling her, but he could not stop the anger that stained his features as he glared at her and his voice dropped to dangerous levels. “Do not harm him.”

Shelby only looked at him. Spock could tell she knew how dangerous an angry Vulcan was. She was provoking him on purpose, and she was not afraid of the consequences. People who had seen hell could not afford to be afraid or show weakness, but they weren’t reckless about it either. She truly thought he was a threat she could handle.

She picked up the empty plates on the nightstand. “You have a day to decide his fate. Until then,” she smiled innocently as she drifted to the door, “I’ll send you a bottle to piss in.”

Spock waited for her to leave before moving the books. It seemed she picked them just for their weight. His leg was throbbing, and his shields were failing him. She was aware of that, and she was pushing to see how far she could.

And Spock had given her more information than he had intended.

* * *

 

If Jim was honest with himself, he was losing faith. He talked a big game, had spent all yesterday talking their plan over with the others, but he was struggling with himself. His being, the instincts he developed on that godforsaken planet, kept telling him that it was too late. Spock and Luca were dead, and he needed to move on. The more he talked and went over the plans, the more apparent the risks he was taking and the danger he was putting his friends in for going through with it.

The only reason he didn’t call the entire thing off was because of something inside him, something extremely small buried in the back of his mind, a feeling really, told him that Spock was alive, and he was clinging to it desperately.

It scared the shit out of him.

The last time he clinged onto hope, foolishly believing against all odds that he could save someone, Jabari died in front of him. Since Spock’s fall, his dreams and waking thoughts were plagued with the past. Of regrets. If he had moved faster. If he had noticed sooner. If he hadn’t attacked the mansion. Spock’s face kept appearing where _his_ should be.

He had accepted all this long ago. There was no point in dwelling on regrets. He couldn’t change any of it. They would remain dead. All he could do was learn. Jim buried the pain down deep and continued on with life. There was no talking about it, no airing out his feelings. He kept them to himself and put on a smile. _He_ would want him to.

The problem was he wasn’t ready to face the pain again. No, it would be worse. Jim had never said that _he_ was a friend. Not out loud. He never admitted it to himself. And when _he_ died, he did almost everything to avoid hearing and saying his name if he could help it. But Spock was different. Not only did Spock remind him of the past, Jim had admitted to himself that he was a friend. Someone he would die for even. But it wasn’t the realization that he would die for him that unnerved him. It was the fact that he was willing to risk others dying to help him. He was emotionally compromised by Spock’s disappearance.

Spock’s disappearance left a gaping hole behind that left Jim reeling, lost. Spock had been his point of reference. He could trust Spock to keep him from falling too far into himself, into his nightmares.

Jim sat by the fire, staring into the flames with an intense focus, noting every ember that drifted into the night sky. He froze at McCoy’s approach, his muscles coiling and readying for attack before he could stop it. His friend paused for a moment, recognizing the threat, and then continued forward, taking a seat beside him. “You alright?”

Jim didn’t answer. He didn’t feel like he had the right. He was risking his friend’s life for what was probably a lost cause.

“I guess that was a stupid ass question. What I wouldn’t give for some good old fashioned whiskey.” The older man sighed sprawling out on the ground. Neither man said anything. It had been some time since they had been left alone together; Uhura had gone to the river to wash off the dirt and grime. McCoy and Kirk were only 10 meters away, but it felt like their own little world.

It was a while before McCoy spoke again. “Spock is alright, Jim. You’re doing the right thing.”

“I don’t think I am, Bones. You don’t know how dangerous it’s going to be.”

A snort escaped the doctor as he propped himself up on his elbows. “More dangerous than the missions we’ve been on?” Jim didn’t answer. “Jim, you’ve gone after Spock as many times as Spock’s gone after you, disregarding regulations and risks to yourselves, and we have always followed you both no matter how much you protested. We aren’t kids. We have training. It may not match your experiences, but it’s something, and we do know the risks.”

To the doctor’s surprise, Jim chuckled at his little speech, looking at him for the first time since rejoining the group. “That’s quite a pep talk coming from you.” His chuckle faded and insecurities flitted across his face. “I’m scared, Bones.”

The admittance made the doctor pause. Jim never admitted fear. The only time he ever recalled such vulnerability from the young man was during the video of Jim’s death, and it was to Spock and only for Spock to hear. “Of course you are, kid. You’re reliving your worst nightmare.”

The captain shook his head lightly, wrapping arms around his knees. “No, I’m scared I’m too reliant on Spock,” he whispered. He looked at Bones only for a second but it was enough.

“Jim . . . Are you in love with Spock?”

“What?” Jim’s eyes widened. “No. Of course not!” he protested quickly, his face turning red.

The reaction was so . . . normal. It threw McCoy’s mind for a spin as he processed that information. With all the girls his best friend had slept with, dated, and used, he never seen such an honest reaction from him, until now that was. A wicked smile grew on his face. Spock may not have had anything to worry about after all.

“I mean he’s not bad looking or anything, but he’s a guy. Not that there’s anything wrong with guys liking guys, I’m just saying that I’m not into that kind of thing. I mean if I was gay then I totally date him, but I’m not. I guess I could be bi, but you’d think I’d figured that out by now if I was. But then again─”

“Breathe, kid,” he said with amusement lacing his voice. Suddenly, it didn’t seem like Jim was ever distant from him. Like they were still sitting in his office drinking after a long shift. “Never seen you freak out over a question like that.”

Jim’s blush darkened, and he decided it was probably safer not to answer.

“So, do you?” the doctor asked more seriously, watching his friend’s face carefully.

Aware of the scrutiny he was under, he didn’t dare look back, carefully considering his answer. “I don’t know. He’s a good friend, but he’s different from you.   He’s…” he’s what exactly. He didn’t even know himself. It couldn’t be romantic feelings, that’s all he knew. He didn’t fall in love, he didn’t get attached. And Spock was a man. He had never been attracted to men. Even if he strived to make Spock smile with his eyes at least once a day, or if he wanted to know everything about him, James Kirk did not do love. “Doesn’t matter,” he finally said. “He’s dating Uhura, and I’m not that much of a douche to steal him away even if I was.”

“We aren’t dating, Kirk.” Uhura said, braiding her long dark hair. It was beginning to frizz from being wet. “We haven’t for three months now.”

Jim tried to ignore the lightness he felt in his heart, squashing it down with reality. “We should get some sleep,” he whispered, lying down onto his side, facing away from them. He was distancing himself again now that he ended the conversation.

McCoy and Uhura shared a glance which ended with the Lieutenant rolling her eyes and settling down for sleep.

* * *

 Adults were morons.

Luca kept a hawk-like attention on the adult who had entered his room until the door closed behind her.

He was kept in what looked like a child’s room. It was painted a bright, warm yellow and had a bright, red metal-framed bed. Distractions littered the floor from building block, action figures, and remote controlled hover cars, to movies and videogames, but Luca didn’t touch a single thing.

While they didn’t specifically lock him in the room, he was accompanied by an adult anytime he left, and hi s whereabouts were restricted. He wasn’t an idiot as they made him out to be. He knew they were hiding something.

Of course there were other children there as well, and if Luca was straightforward with himself, he hated every single one of them. All of them ran around smiling, laughing, and playing around with toys and other children. They were thinner than what was probably healthy, but not as much as he was. Some even had the gall to actually complain about being hungry. The whining, complaining, and utterly carefree attitude pissed him off to no end. None of these spoiled kids knew what was going on outside the compound.

And he detested them for it.

He detested them because it made them ignorant to what was going on, useless when it came to figuring out more about the compound, and therefore made them untrustworthy to conspire with them.

He also hated them because he was jealous. Unbearably so. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that they didn’t worry about starving, or being cold, or watch people kill each other. It was cruel that he had to endure being raped repeatedly, just so he could live. He hadn’t even known what the word meant until then. He wanted to be able to sleep without worrying about nightmares. He wanted to be able to look at himself in a mirror without seeing the fading traces of what had been done to him. He despised not being able to be near males over fourteen without almost collapsing into a panic attack, and he could not reign in the animosity he felt towards the people who took away his innocence.

And the only reason for any of it was because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That was probably the hardest thing to reconcile with. That it was because of shitty luck that all this happened to him. He understood it could be worse. He knew there were at least two kids who were still with those men at their camp, or he could be dead, but he wondered if maybe it would be better than to live with the pain.

There was a light in the darkness. Meeting Jim was a godsend. He was like the father he never really had. He had a dad. And a mom too. They were just never around, always working on their science experiments. He was thrilled when they had brought him to the colony. He thought maybe he could finally show them things or that they would play with him. They hadn’t.

They said they loved him. Gave him hugs and kisses before rushing off to their next big discovery, promising to come to the next recital or the next game. He spent more time with the sitter than his own parents. He never doubted they loved him, up until they died protecting him from the faction that took advantage of him. He just never knew them too well. It figures all hell would break loose when they decided to take him on an excavation for the first time.

Jim was strong, kind, and warm. He was the only man Luca had immediately trusted after what happened to him. Without saying a word, Jim knew everything that had happened and knew exactly what to do or say to make him feel better, to feel needed. In the few days he had spent with him, Luca had grown to trust him more than he had ever done with his real parents. He was direct, never condescending because of his young age, and had never once lied to him. Because of this, Luca trusted and listened to him when he told Luca that Mr. Spock would take care of him.

Mr. Spock was an unusual case. At first, the Vulcan scared him. He couldn’t read Spock. The people he couldn’t read were more dangerous than the ones he could. It made them unpredictable. However, during the time spent in Jim’s care, he saw Jim interact with his first officer. The trust they had in each other, the need to reach out yet not quite making it, the frustration between both of them but the clear need to stay by one another. Luca was young. He didn’t understand it all but knew it reminded him of the movies his baby sitter liked to watch. According to her, it was part of being in love.

So Jim was in love with Mr. Spock, and Mr. Spock loved his Jim. So obviously if Jim was like his dad, then he should get to know Mr. Spock in case they do in fact start a relationship, as soon as he managed to dissuade Jim from the ludicrous thought that Mr. Spock was with Ms. Uhura for some reason.

So he watched Mr. Spock after being put in his care. It was apparent that Mr. Spock had been uncomfortable around him, and it was evident that he had never taken care of a child before, but it was the little things that won Luca over: Mr. Spock not making eye contact with him, ensuring that he had food to eat before he partook of the food himself, keeping his distance physically yet never leaving him alone.

With the increasing need to be near someone, Mr. Spock opened his arms, metaphorically and physically, and allowed it despite his discomfort. Luca tried not to touch him. He had learned about Vulcans after all, which made it that much more touching and painful that Mr. Spock had allowed it. Mr. Spock gave Luca a different type of comfort. If Jim made him feel needed, grown up, and stronger, then Spock made him feel like it was okay to be a kid. Whenever Spock touched him, he drove away the fear and pain and brought forth calm. It was okay to cry and just be held. It made Luca fight for someone else besides himself. He ran to protect Mr. Spock instead of running away to protect himself. But in the end, Mr. Spock did the protecting.

When he saw Mr. Spock again, he was relieved. He had thought the worst and demanded to see him, dead or alive. It was a shock when his aunt had come to bring him to the Vulcan. He had never liked her much. She had always been cold and efficient. The colony’s deteriorating social and governmental structure appeared to do little to change that. She told him to follow her and he did, but he thought she was lying when she told him Mr. Spock was alive. Something about her sent him on edge, and Luca had learned to trust that instinct.

Once the relief faded, he knew, Mr. Spock was not okay. His face was drained of color, pain laced his features, his movements felt weak, he felt too warm, and he was too easy to read. Perhaps for someone who did not know Mr. Spock, they would not notice his poor condition, but Luca knew. Spock needed a doctor, and when Luca requested it, she said that she would send him one. Luca glared at her retreating back and thought to himself that she was a lying bitch.

She hadn’t let him see Mr. Spock since, and she had only visited him once afterwards, telling him to eat the food they were giving him when he refused to eat. Something wasn’t right. He needed Jim to come save him and Spock, but how could he when he wasn’t even sure Jim knew where they were?

So that lead to the present situation of Luca leaving his room and walking around the available areas of the compound with some woman (he couldn’t care less about her name) beside him. He just needed to disappear and make a commotion somehow.

Turning the corner, he eyed the trash chute.

* * *

 Jim restrained a shiver as he came up to breathe, the cool night air, touching his wet face. This was probably one of the most dangerous rescue attempts he had ever tried. It was dark, and the river had a swift current. Add to the fact that the water was cold, making his movements stiff and sluggish, losing the feelings in his limbs, and sapping his heat, it could kill him long before he arrived at his destination.

He could hardly see anything due to the lack of light and was relying on the compound having their lights on to see his exit. It was the only way to approach the compound with the wasteland surrounding it. Like most colonies, it was built near a water source which in this case was the river that eventually emptied out into a large lake before continuing on the other side. Beside him, he could hear Decker swimming beside him. The man had asked to be a part of the rescue attempt, claiming to feel responsible for Spock’s capture.

Jim was calling bullshit on it, but he wanted Decker to be near him instead of his crew. McCoy and Uhura were heading to the settlement Jim and Spock had entered the day after their arrival, looking for a vehicle that could transport them quickly if need be. Jim had seen them before, but it was too loud to use practically when one was trying to hide their location. Jim would signal for them to come get them when the time came.

A part of him wished they had come with him. They were trying to enter the compound, the place where the planets shields and communication disruption originated from. Uhura would have been useful for figuring out what was causing the disruption. Bones’ presence was self explanatory given that they were trying to rescue an injured Spock, but they needed a quick getaway more.

The shields, communications, and anti aircraft guns were conveniently located in the same place Spock was being held. If anyone asked, he would say that was what swayed his opinion to go rescue Spock. He was a Starfleet captain first and foremost, and he had a mission. But he was going to search for Spock first. It was wrong for him to do so. It was not the priority. Completing his mission was. He always protected his crew, he told himself. If it was anyone else on a different planet and different circumstances, he would try his best to do both, but the mission would take precedence if it was important enough. This mission was important, and he was intentionally putting it at risk.

He allowed the current to carry him a kilometer until he saw the faint light in the compound. Jim had almost missed it as the external lights were turned off. The compound was made up with one large building in the center, smaller ones surrounding it, and a two meter high force field covering the perimeter. Jim was betting that Spock was being held in the central complex.

If the mission debriefing was accurate, the central building was the central hub for this settlement and the four surrounding settlements surrounding it. It was tall, at least seven stories with a spire perched atop it where the planetary defenses were generated from. The invisible fence was created to keep out the natural planetary predators. If strengthened, touching those force fields could result in a lethal blow. Even if it was only to stun him, being stunned in the water would lead to his demise. The fence covered a small portion of the river, but it didn’t extend all the way to the bottom. Jim could swim underneath it, but the window between the end of the force field and going too deep and enter the stronger currents that would pull him either to the bottom of the river or far away from his target was dangerously slim. To complicate matters, Jim would be practically blind doing it. The most he had was naturally soft glowing rock obtained from one of the quarries nearby to light his way and a handful of pebbles to test the barrier.

A dangerous mission indeed and a part of him hoped Decker wouldn’t make it. It was a selfish and ugly wish. He needed Decker. He had been inside the compound, would know his way to the control room, but the Commodore’s behavior was unforgivable. If Spock was indeed dead, Kirk wasn’t sure he wouldn’t kill his superior.

Seeing the light, he used the pebbles to locate the barrier. Once located, he swam until he was less than half a meter away from it. Diving back under, holding the rock in his left hand, he watched the distortion the barrier made due to the rushing water around it. He swam about four meters down. His lungs burned, clearly tired from his journey, and his body fought not to convulse from the cold, but he finally found the end of the distortion. He forced his limbs to move though he could no longer feel them and he wasn’t sure they were even moving at that point.

As he swam a good couple meters forward to make sure he cleared the force field, his struggled to continue holding his breath. He swam frantically up, the air expelling from his lungs before he was even half way there. It was so dark, he wasn’t even sure if he was actually heading up, but he took an involuntary breath in, choking on water. He fought the urge to cough and swallow more, but it was a losing battle and he tried to swim faster as the inhaled water made his lungs feel a different type of burn. His vision was beginning to black when he finally resurfaced, forcing himself to cough up the water and breathe.

Shore was close now. Only 100 more meter. That normally short swim felt like an eternity. He barely remembered to check to see if Decker had even made it. The bastard did. By the time he made it to shore, his body was frozen, and he wasn’t shivering anymore. He frantically tried to warm himself up, pulling off his wet clothes and rubbing his chest to bring back the warmth.

He could barely begin to feel the biting, painful pricking back in just his limbs when he had to move, heading to the first house in sight.

It looked empty, so he overrode the security and entered. The power hadn’t been on in some time. The house was just as chilly as it was outside and everything had a thin layer of dust on it. The first thing Jim grabbed was some clothes. He grabbed a colonist jumpsuit that was too big for him and pulled it on with haste, Decker doing the same.

“I’m going to look for Spock,” he stated, restraining every emotion he felt towards the older man. “Disable the shields and communication block.”

“You’re not coming?” Decker asked.

“I don’t leave my people behind.” His eyes narrowed. “And only do what I told you to. Your revenge can wait until after.”

It looked like Decker wanted to contest against the order, but in the end he capitulated. For now.

Decker left first, heading into the night. Jim waited about a minute before going off himself. He stayed to the shadows, trying to dispel the sense of déjà vu about the situation. It wouldn’t end like it did last time. He wouldn’t let it. He refused to be powerless to save someone again.

The closer to the center he got, the more security he saw, mostly in the form of patrols. Though there were security cameras as well, they were scarce on the outside of the building and mostly at the entrances. Simple security which was expected given that it was a small community and everyone was pretty much acquainted with one another. The main settlement was only recorded to have about 10,000 occupants while the four smaller settlements had about 3,000.

He circled the building, staying out of sight from the cameras, looking for a way in. Upon his third circuit, he eyed a newly opened basement window, hidden just behind a bush. Jim jumped for it. He listened carefully for movement, before using his phaser to remove the rest of the window. Sucking in his stomach, he squeezed through the small opening, dropping two and a half meters on the other side.

His boot slipped in something wet, causing him to lose his footing and fall into the puddle. The room he had decided to enter smelled stale and the scent of iron filled the air. Jim recognized the smell. He must have dropped into a butcher’s work space. It was strange though, Jim thought, usually it wouldn’t be a part of a building like this. It would normally be located in a place like that small farming community they had run across. Then again, maybe it wasn’t too strange. It appeared the remaining colonist who had stayed behind had moved into the central building.

Jim looked down and cringed when he realized that he had slipped in blood. He wiped the blood on his clothes and eyed the lumps of meat on the wooden butcher’s table. Where did they get the meat from? Did they bring domesticated animals into the compound too?

The meat looked ordinary enough. That was until Kirk’s eyes landed on the bloody Starfleet uniforms discarded in the disposal bin. Kirk’s blood ran cold. Using his phaser, he nudged the meat aside. Bile rose at the back of his throat when a pale hand peaked out from underneath.

Looking around, he recognized the shape of the beheaded bodies dangling in the back draining of blood, of discarded bones in the disposal bin with the uniforms.

Jim felt numb. He placed his phaser on the table and reached into the bin, pulling out its contents, searching frantically. He pulled out three science blues, checking the cuffs for rank. On one of the three shirts was the commander’s rank insignia.

He’s mouth went dry, and his legs gave out from under him. He was too late. Spock was dead. His eyes drifted to the hanging bodies. Was one of them Spock’s? No, none of them matched Spock’s body type, either too broad or short or dripping red instead of green. Perhaps they had already eaten him. He gripped the shirt tighter in his hands. He had failed again. Spock was dead. Spock … was dead.

Before he could completely process it and let his turbulent emotions make themselves known, a warm comforting feeling flickered in the back of his mind.

_Do not give up hope, Jim. I am here._

It was like a whisper, calming his fears. A subconscious thought brought to the surface. He didn’t dwell on the strange phrasing at all and instead examined the shirt in his hands. It was fairly clean. It couldn’t have been Spock’s. If it was, there would have been a large green bloodstain in the chest area, and he doubt they would attempt to clean a shirt they would just have thrown out. There was still a chance.

The door to the room opened, signaling the entrance of someone, probably the butcher. Jim was thankfully out of sight, hidden behind the table. He waited until the new occupant was standing next to the table before, grabbing the man’s shirt, and slamming his head against the sturdy piece of furniture. The man was knocked unconscious, and Jim continued out the door.

He was assaulted by loud shouting as soon as he climbed up the stairs to the first floor. He thought his cover had been blown when he overheard the conversation by stern looking woman, speaking into a comm.

“I don’t care if it’s difficult. Shove someone into the chute after him if you have too. I want Luca back.”

“He’s setting traps, Dr. Emmett,” the voice cackled through the comm, clearly exasperated.

“He’s a child. It’s not hard to capture a child. I want him found before morning.” She snapped the comm closed, huffing with irritation.

Jim however found himself smiling. Luca couldn’t have planed his escape with better timing. Any trail he might leave would be automatically assumed to be Luca. They wouldn’t expect it to be an intruder.

The woman, apparently named Dr. Emmett, started to walk away, but then halted. Opening her comm she connected to the head guard. “Is the Vulcan still there?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Keep an eye on him. My nephew might be trying to see him again. I’m heading there now.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

So Spock was alive, and Jim had run into someone who actually knew where he was. His luck was finally kicking in.

He followed her down several corridors. He managed to grab a lab coat and put it on, covering the blood on his clothes. He kept his head down and walked with purpose, trying to blend in amongst the chaos. She took the turbo lift and Jim managed to hear which floor was her destination before the doors closed. He ran up two floors, coming out just as she turned left at the end of another corridor.

He power walked to the corridor she turned down, hoping he didn’t lose her. He caught sight of her entering a room.

He hurried before the door closed and locked, slipping in just barely. He almost didn’t dodge the phaser shot, tripping in his haste to get away. Dr. Emmett, stared at him, her held tilted in curiosity as she watched him scramble to his feet. “You’re here for the Vulcan I take it.”

“How did you know I was following you?”

“Almost anyone who’s been outside these walls would figure it out. Now how many more of you are there?”

He smiled darkly. “Just me. Captain James T. Kirk.”

The woman returned his smile with a wry one. “Of course, Captain James T. Kirk. And the Vulcan must be the famed Mr. Spock.”

“You don’t believe me.” Jim stated matter of factly, staying low.

“Do you think I’m a moron? A captain and his first officer in a landing party? You certainly weren’t ship wrecked. I saw no constitution class vessel falling out of the sky.”

“Well that’s all I’m telling you. Take it or leave it.”

“I think I’ll leave it. First I’ll kill your little Vulcan. Then I’ll torture the information I want out of you,” she pulled out her comm to call for the guards. Jim rushed her.

* * *

 Spock heard the commotion outside. At first he thought it would pass, but the shouting only seemed to get louder. It might be his chance to escape.

He quickly threw the covers aside and forced back the pain and nausea as he stood. It was a small window of oppertunity, but he would not allow his captain time to stage a rescue. The odds were substantially against him even by Kirk luck standards. Not that Spock ever agreed that was a real thing.

He made it two steps when he noticed someone standing in his room. He was about a head taller than Spock, had pale skin, a faintly enlarged cranium, irises a cloudy grey, no hair, and wore long silver robes.

“S’chn T’gai Spock,” he said with perfect Vulcan pronunciation.

Spock had only opened his mouth when he felt the familiar tug on his molecules and a white light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yup. End of this dreaded chapter that took forever to freaking write. I actually wrote Jabarai's entry like two chapter's ago. I was really excited to write it. I hope it sounds like a real piece of literature and less like a fanfic.
> 
> Please comment!


	17. James Tiberius Kirk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 5:40 AM, and I've been working on this since 9 PM. You do the math. Too tired to go on a tirade. Read through this once and edited. It probably still sucks but I'll worry about that after sleep. (Since this is a stupid idea, and I know this and still doing it anyway, it should tell you how sleep deprived I am)

Admiral Komack poured himself another glass of cognac, sighing heavily into his drink. In approximately twenty minutes, the scout ships would report in. If they could that was. He hoped they were successful even if the underlying reason was because he didn’t want more people to die for his screw-up.

“Admiral, Admiral Barnett is─” before his assistant could finish, the door swished open.

“Ever heard of knocking,” Komack snapped half heartedly, putting his glass down.

“Ever heard of not drinking on duty?” Barnett replied easily, taking a seat across from him. “Pour me a glass would you.”

Komack grudgingly retrieved another glass from his desk and poured the man a drink.

They sat in silence for a while, both taking long, slow slips from the amber liquid.

Barnett sat his glass down once it was empty, folding his hands together in thought. Finally, he said, “You sent Kirk on that mission to discredit him, didn’t you.”

“You goin’ to bring me up to the board, Barnett?” Komack asked sullenly into his drink.

A low chuckle filled the otherwise quiet room. “No. I can’t completely fault you. You’re only human, and your disdain for him isn’t completely unwarranted. Kirk comes off as brazen, haughty, and seems to have problems listening to authority let alone following regulations. The mission request you received in your mail box looked like a milk run. A simple assess the situation and offer supplies mission. If Kirk followed regular procedure, he wouldn’t have even gone down to the planet in the first place.”

Decker looked at the man across with him, sensing a but coming.

“However, despite the easy mission, you knew Kirk would go down and see what the colony was going through. The mission brief was very vague but there was a high chance that they were experiencing a food shortage. Somehow, you found out he was on Tarsus IV, and you tried to use it against him. Legally speaking, you did nothing wrong, but I also can’t condone the motive behind it.”

Komack smiled bitterly, leaning forward. “I received a tip about Tarsus IV. An anonymous email. Digging deeper. There wasn’t much. I just managed to find his name once in a small no town news article. But how do you know about Tarsus IV? It was deleted from his file.”

Barnett didn’t look concerned. “Pike knew about it. Kirk was like a son to him and kept some things on his computer. Like his complete file. I’m guessing Kirk hacked into the system years ago and deleted it, but Pike seemed to have gotten the entire thing, even some above his security clearance.” The man sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. “Did you know Kirk is one of seven survivors who heard the speech before the massacre and could probably recognize him by sight if Kodos was still alive?”

The guilty expression Komack made was enough. “The fact he changed his file is enough to show you he isn’t Starfleet material. What if he comes across something similar? He’ll break. He never saw a psychiatrist, and when I spoke to his ethics professor, she said he ran from the room when confronted by it.”

Barnett shook his head. “We have another cadet named Kevin Thomas Riley. He’s going to graduate in two years. He requested to serve on the _USS Enterprise_ once he graduates _._ He’s also one of the seven who can identify Kodos.”

“What’s your point Barnett?”

“I had been called for the kid’s hearing on whether he was mentally sound to join Starfleet since it was such a traumatic event. That kid is a strong one. I figured it was because he was so young he could get over it. When I found out about Kirk also being on Tarsus after he went MIA, I had a random thought that maybe they knew each other. So I asked.”

“I still don’t know where you’re going with this,” Komack said impatiently.

Barnett just gave him a stern look to let him finish. “First, the kid told me the hell that really happened on that planet, in his own words, in gory details. I read the file, as I’m sure you have, but to get it straight from the survivor’s mouth is different. Cadet Riley is a very energetic boy, happy all the time, but when he talked about that colony, you knew he’d seen hell. Yet, I didn’t see fear. He was cold, distant, and impersonal. Nothing was biased in his story, and there was no exaggeration. He looked like a soldier who had seen so many battles, nothing fazed him anymore. A Klingon fleet against him wouldn’t even make him sweat. It reminded me a lot of Kirk.

“When I asked about Kirk, he looked almost panicked. I’m guessing he realized Kirk tried to erase his existence on the colony too. I told him that he wouldn’t get in trouble, and I told him the situation and said I was worried about his mental state. The things that kid told me,” Barnett closed his eyes as if he wanted to block it all from memory. “If Cadet Riley had been in hell, then Kirk must have been in the seventh ring. He told me what Kirk did. Everything. Like he was waiting for a long time to tell someone.

“Kirk led a group of children, protected them, fed them, taught them how to fight and survive. Cadet Riley was lucky enough to have been the first one Kirk picked up, so he saw the entire thing.”

Barnett met Komack’s gaze. “Kirk did things no child or adult should ever do. He did them so kids like Kevin would never have to. But the entire time, Kirk did not break. He fought back hard, and he did it to minimize losses to make sure everyone would survive. He doesn’t act like it, but he’s intuitive, tenacious to a fault, and a good captain. He knows his limits, and he knows his people’s lives matter even if he doesn’t act like it, but he also knows when to push until something gives. Tarsus is the reason why he could take over the Enterprise calmly during the Nero incident, and why he acted rashly with Khan. If Kirk had a major fault, it’d be he cares about his people too much.”

“What do you mean too much?” Komack couldn’t help but ask.

“Talk to Cadet Riley. He’ll tell you what happened after the rescue.” Barnett stood, stretching as he did so. “The scout ships should be in range. Be in the briefing room in 5 minutes.”

Barnett left the room, leaving Komack to think over what he had said. How much worse could Tarsus have been? His curiosity was peeked.

“Computer, pull up Cadet Kevin Thomas Riley.”

* * *

 

“Damn that, kid. Damn him, damn him, damn him!” McCoy cursed, trying to make sure all the wires under the dashboard of the hover car were connected. He and Nyota had gotten into the settlement just fine. Seeing the decaying bodies up close, it was enough to make both of them lose their lunch.

As Jim had said, there were a few work vehicles lying about. What Jim hadn’t known was that a lot of them were stripped for parts. For the past two hours, they were trying to reassemble one of them into something functional if not temporary. And given that he had no idea on how to fix hover vehicles and the lieutenant was just a communications expert, it was extremely difficult and largely trial and error. There were already largely overdue.

And just a few minutes prior, a scout team spotted them and was now hunting them.

Nyota had lured them away while he tried to hot wire the damn thing. It wasn’t right for a young woman to be bait. He was a southern gentleman dammit. He wasn’t sexist or anything, but he lived a long enough life. 38 years wasn’t so bad. Sure people could live to be nearly 120 nowadays but he never wanted to live that long anyway.

He cursed again when a spark burned his fingertips, but he kept going at it. The engine was at least turning over.

Two more tries and the engine finally roared to life. It was loud and clanky which definitely meant something was wrong with the engine, but as long as it didn’t explode, they should be good.

He peered out the window, hoping that she could hear the engine and would come back. He didn’t know if it would be good idea if he left to find her and she returned to this spot and wasn’t there, but she might need back up too. Argh, this was Jim’s thing, making tough decisions like this. He was a doctor. Not an engineer and certainly not a brash, cocky, and questionably brilliant starship captain.

He was getting anxious waiting out in the open like he was though. His hands rested on the steering wheel, pulling up the cuffs of his shirt. He frowned when it did. Well shit.

Just as he was about to pull out, something hit the passenger-side door, causing him to jump. Nyota had run into the door, yanking it open.

Just behind her, he could see the men with phasers behind her. If they shot at the already unstable craft, they wouldn’t get far. “Take over, I’ll distract them.” Her eyes widened, and she was going to object, but he was already jumping out of the car. She saw it, just under his sleeve, the familiar specks of white.

Her stomach sank. She knew what he was trying to do, but she didn’t want to leave him either. The mission came first. They both knew that. If she wasted more time, they could destroy Kirk and Spock’s escape route. With determination, she slid into the driver’s seat and took off, leaving McCoy behind.

But she would come back for him. After all, they didn’t leave men behind.

* * *

 

The entire base was on alert. The sirens were blaring and people were running around with phasers. Due to the chaos, Decker only heard snippets of what was going on. A prisoner was missing as was their leader. So Kirk was successful, and they didn’t know where he was. He wondered briefly if they had already escaped. All he really could do was sigh in relief. He knew Kirk had been serious with his threats.

Still he didn’t want to face his wrath anytime soon. He would complete his mission, though probably not how Kirk wanted him too. He would get his revenge.

There was one thing bugging him. According to Kirk, the planetary defenses were still up and running and communication was down. He hadn’t known that until recently, but he figured the opposite was true. Why was the colony isolating itself, like it didn’t want to be saved?

He made it to the central command, which was surprisingly clear of people. There were three of them. All with their backs turned to monitors and readouts. He shot them all in the back before they even knew of his presence. Relieving them of their weapons, he checked over the computers quickly.

What he saw wasn’t possible.

They weren’t monitoring the system at all. The planetary shields weren’t originating from central. The signal looked like theirs, but it wasn’t. It was coming from somewhere else. The men he just killed were trying to figure out where and how to stop it. The communications were the same. They were sending out signals, but nothing was getting through.

Then his mission was accomplished. He should leave it alone and let them continue trying to figure out the problem. Except…

This was also the perfect place to stage his revenge.

He took the weapons he had taken from the bodies and set them to overheat. The resulting explosion from the three weapons combined could take out the entire floor, set so close to the shield generators he could take out the entire complex.

Kirk probably made it out anyway. He could get his revenge and take out the monsters who killed his crew.

He set the three to over load and high tailed it out of there, trying to escape the building as fast as possible. He had two minutes. He cut it close. Luckily he was only on the second floor, and had staged his escape earlier, keeping a window open to jump out of. He jumped and rolled once he hit the ground, grunting in pain and kept running, waiting for the countdown. Two minutes turned to three then four.

He frowned. Were the weapons duds? The probability for all three malfunctioning was fairly low even if they were handled roughly.

He was considering whether to sneak back into the building when he felt the familiar tug on his molecules. At first he started to panic, forgetting why the feel was recognizable to him, until he found himself in a grey room. It was reminiscent of a cell except he could see no way in or out.

“Commodore David Decker.”

The voice drew Decker’s panicked gaze. The strange bald man in silver robes stood before him less than two feet away. “We ask that you calmly wait here for the time being until we are ready to remove the fungal infection from your body. Food will be here momentarily.”

“Who the hell are you?” he demanded.

“We cannot disclose the specifics to you at this time. You were only relocated here because we could not allow such mass destruction to occur.”

Decker’s hands balled into fists, so these were the bastards who stopped his revenge.

“I suggest you calm yourself. We will relocate you to better quarters in three of your earth hours.”

The alien turned around, presumably to leave, and Decker lost it. He used his knife to throw at the alien. The alien turned around, blocking the knife with his forearm and the object seemingly bounced off. The alien frowned, and focused his gaze on Decker. A second later, Decker’s body dropped to the floor.

The alien’s brow creased. “An unexpected development has occurred,” he spoke out into the air. “The subject’s body was weaker than anticipated. The typical punishment dealt out for misbehavior seems to have overloaded his body’s functions.”

A moment later he spoke again. “Very well.” Both he and the body disappeared.

* * *

 

His head was throbbing. What the hell happened? Jim recalled rushing Dr. Emmett for the phaser. He remembered the phaser discharging and then a bright light blinding him. After that, everything was a blur.

As his consciousness fought to the surface, he focused on what he could. He felt rough carpeting beneath his body, the familiar humming of a ship’s engines, and a familiar touch on his backside. Wait … what?

He did feel someone’s hands on his back, slowly progressing lower. “Spock,” he mumbled, slowly opening his eyes. The hand quickly disappeared off his person, and his vision finally focused enough to make out Spock’s face. “Were you touching my ass?”

An interesting shade of green dusted Spock’s cheeks. “Captain, you are awake,” Spock said stiffly. “I was merely assessing your condition. Your backside was covered in a conspicuous amount of blood.”

The comment brought Jim back to the current situation, and he sat up quickly, taking in his surroundings. They were in an enclosed room with no visible entrance or exit. There wasn’t even a window or vent. The ceiling was at least three stories, the walls were smooth with a light metallic grey coloring, and the floor was made of course violet material. There was only furniture in the room was three elevated pieces of floor draped in a soft cloth that Jim was sure was supposed to be beds.

He was on one of the beds; Dr. Emmett was sitting up and staring at him in another. So she was taken too. Wonderful. “So where the hell are we?”

“We appear to have been abducted by an unknown alien life form, Captain.”

“Very perceptive of you, Mr. Spock,” both Spock and Kirk turned to the sound of the new voice, seeing two of the alien life forms Spock had seen on the planet. There was no difference between the two in appearance except while one had cloudy grey eyes, the other had a misty blue. Jim named them Grey Eyes and Blue Eyes in his head.

“What do you want from us?” Jim demanded, standing up, taking a few aggressive steps toward them.

“You, Mr. Kirk, are a very rare specimen,” the blue eyed one said with a voice full of sagacity it belied what he was actually implying. “We have been unable to obtain results like we have received from you since Tarsus IV.”

Jim’s eyes widened, but before he could reply, something pulled on his left arm. He looked down to see, Luca, glaring at the aliens venomously. “Come on, Jim. You can take them. There’s more of us then them,” he said.

Before he could wrap his mind about why Luca was there and how he got there so suddenly, another voice spoke up. “I would not recommend it, James.” The captain froze at the sound of the deep baritone voice behind him, whispered softly and intended for his ears alone. Slowly, Jim looked over his right shoulder and saw familiar golden-brown eyes stare up at him warmly.

Jabari turned his gaze to the aliens and his expression became cold with underlying ferocity behind them. “We do not know what they are capable of.”

Jabari was shorter than he remembered, only reaching his chin, but everything, his gaunt appearance, his torn and dirtied clothes, his posture, his voice, his expressions, were exactly the same. The way he even looked back at him and asked, “Are you okay, James?” almost brought Jim to his knees. It wasn’t possible. He was dead. He saw him die.

The captain opened his mouth to speak, but nothing would come out, stunned into silence.

Jabari just gave him that small reserved smile saved just for him, walking in front of him as Luca did the same until they both stood side by side in front of Jim.

“You managed to tame a boy who felt nothing, full of raw power and potential and wanted nothing but his own survival even if it meant shooting the man who raised him, and you inspired loyalty and friendship from him and others, encouraging them to follow you with wanting little in return. If you ordered them to their death, most of them, minus the one incident, would have,” Grey Eyes said.

“You also demonstrated compassion. Without wishing for anything in return, you took in children who were in need of you, children you had no connection too previously. You protected them even if it cost you your own sanity or pride, doing many things that still haunt you to this day, so they would not have to,” the blue eyed one continued.

A younger version of Jim appeared before their captors. His blond hair brighter, longer, and knotted, his blue eyes were hard, cold, and unforgiving, his body so thin his shirt dwarfed him, and his body and face covered in scars and blood, both fresh and old.

Jabari turned and went to the younger Jim’s side, just behind and to the right of him. The younger Jim glanced at him and offered a small stiff smile which Jabari returned before they both returned their attention on the present Jim.

At some point Spock had taken Jabari’s place, standing just behind and to the right of Jim, standing stiffly and looking ahead.

“Even now, Captain Kirk, your present and past reflect one another.” The grey one gestured to the younger pair, Luca in the middle, and the older pair. “You have learned and grown since then, overcame adversity, and have taken a position suited to your talents. You have developed your problem solving skills to a degree where to others they seem almost spontaneous rather than pragmatic solutions, and have become a hero to the eyes of those of your Federation.

“When we repeated the test however, no one emulated your results despite there being several test subjects who shared similar upbringing both children and adults. We began to consider whether you were an aberration or if the results were based on what you would call luck.”

Jim was still unable to say anything, his mind still trying to process what they were telling him and unable to look away from his younger self and Jabari. Everything . . . everything was. . .

“You are responsible for the collapse of both Tarsus IV and Brekka V and for distributing the fungus on both colonies.”

The two aliens shared a look. “I believe we just explained that. The Vulcan is more primitive than we had anticipated.”

Spock’s eyebrows shot up at the comment.

“Yes, we distributed the fungus to both human colonies as well as others,” the grey one responded.

“For what purpose,” Spock asked.

“A type of social experiment. An over simplification of our true intent, but the specifics are too advanced for your archaic knowledge.”

“An experiment,” Kirk whispered disbelievingly. “You did all this for some damn experiment?”

“It was necessary. Our species survival depended on it,” Grey Eyes responded.

The calm the aliens radiated pissed Kirk off. They didn’t regret a single thing. “You used living, sentient beings! Does that not comprehend in that big brain of yours?!” His eyes wandered to Jabari, still standing by his younger version’s side, but Jim couldn’t see anything but the dead form of the teen lying in a puddle of his own blood, with lifeless eyes staring back. “Do you know how many people have suffered and died?”

“You of all people, Captain, should realize how hypocritical you are. Humans have used animals that they have considered less than in experiments for centuries because it was considered inhumane to use your own kind. Even once the notion that animals of lesser cognitive ability were not capable of emotions had been cast away and that even the simple laboratory rodent could show empathy for others of their kind, the experiments did not desist. You ask us now to desist for you?”

Jim opened his mouth to retort, but Spock beat him too it. “Understandable.”

The captain turned wide, disbelieving eyes to Spock. “What?”

“A species’ ultimate goal is to preserve itself. Thus why there is procreation, so that the species become immortalized by passing the genes from one generation to the other. Naturally, preserving the life of the species as a whole becomes the immediate priority over another’s if there is a high probability of extinction.”

“Spock,” Jim growled.

“However, it does not mean I agree with the rancorous actions you have taken,” Spock continued.

“It is not for the subject to decide,” Blue Eyes said.

“You wanted me. Why did you take Spock and that woman,” Jim asked.

“The woman is intelligent for your species, and she is also considered to be aesthetically attractive.”

“So?” Kirk did not like where this was going.

“You are a valuable test subject. Should the experiment go longer than plan, procreation may be required.”

Jim was boiling over with anger while the woman snorted. “And Spock?” he bit out.

“We have yet to study a Vulcan. His mind seems intriguing. His telepathy is something to be examined.”

Enough was enough. Jim refused to go along with this anymore. He moved to charge at his opponents. They didn’t seem armed, and if he was lucky, he could do it quickly before either had time to act.

He didn’t even make it two steps before a sharp crippling pain in his head made him fall to the floor writhing in agony. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to scream when the pain stopped. His hands trembled as he held his head in his hands and flinched when he felt a hand reach out for his.

Spock pulled his hand away but didn’t leave Jim’s side, squatting protectively in front of him, ignoring the pain in his own body.

“That was a warning, Captain,” the aliens said together.

Unable to respond, Jim just shivered on the ground.

“Now, if you would kindly come with us, Mr. Kirk. We have some experiments we would like to run on you first.”

Jim managed to roll onto his stomach, the tremors of pain still echoing throughout his body. He managed to glare, a nasty comment already forming in his mind.

“I will go in his place.”

Jim looked on in horror as Spock struggled to stand with his battered body. Jim’s body was still fighting off the shock of whatever happened to him. His voice was not collaborating with his brain.

The two aliens looked at each other, and then the blue eyed one nodded, “Very well.”

Spock took a step and Jim grabbed his pant leg, gaining the Vulcan’s attention. Jim weakly shook his head, trying to get his voice and body to cooperate with him, trying to tell Spock that he didn’t have to do this. That he could handle it.

Slowly, Spock stepped away, breaking Jim’s hold on him, and he made that expression. The same one Jabari gave him right before he died. Immediately, it put Jim’s senses on alert. Then Spock said those horrible words. “I have my own will, Captain. Let me help.”

Their images were overlapping in Jim’s mind. Jabari’s and Spock’s. No. Spock couldn’t be … he wasn’t… with him.

He couldn’t let Spock go. He twitched, trying to get his body and voice working again as he watched Spock walk away. No. He couldn’t allow that. He couldn’t allow it to happen again.

He managed to get to his hands and knees. “Sp-ck… S…Spock!” he choked out as Spock made it to the alien’s side. Spock looked back with those damned eyes. No. “Spock!”

As he got to his feet, Spock was already gone.

No. No. No. No. NO! Spock couldn’t be … it wasn’t possible, but that look. It was the same. Those words were the same. Spock couldn’t be in love with him.

Spock…

His legs gave out, and he fell against the bed like structure. Spock was in love with him. And if he knew that look, Spock was preparing for the worst.

Why hadn’t he seen it until now? Why did he always realize too late?

“So you really are Captain Kirk and Commander Spock from the _USS Enterprise_ ,” Dr, Emmett said, jolting Jim out of his thoughts.

He didn’t answer at first, too shocked with his revelation to give a damn about what she said, but the panic was threatening to overwhelm him. He needed to stay functioning. He needed to find Spock. “So what,” he bit out.

“Nothing, you just don’t seem much of a revered hero of the Federation.”

“Good.” As soon as he was able, he was up checking the room, checking the walls and floors for a way in and out. He tried not to dwell what they could possibly doing to Spock. Once he checked the entire room, he checked again, and again.

It was futile. He knew that there was no entrance to the room, but he couldn’t stop. He wanted, needed, to stay busy. The moment he stopped, his mind wondered what was happening to Spock. Occasionally, throughout the hours he was waiting, he would feel echoes of pain and discomfort in his mind before it suddenly stopped. Not knowing why was making him anxious. Spock would be okay, he told himself. He didn’t know what he would do if he wasn’t.

* * *

 

At some point, he fell asleep. He didn’t know how long they had been captured, only that without his knowledge his eyelids became so heavy he couldn’t stay awake any longer.

When he awoke, it was to the smell of food. He sat up in the bed, not recalling falling asleep on it, and saw two trays of food, one with a steak with a baked potato and salad, the other with a large plate of spaghetti.

At the sight of food, his stomach twisted unpleasantly. He was starving, but he didn’t have an appetite. Besides, he wasn’t going to play to their tune. He’d have Emmett eat it first to make sure it wasn’t drugged.

He approached the food, intending to poke it just for something to do, when he caught sight of something stuck in the wall. It looked like a piece of fabric. Stepping over the trays, he inspected it. It was indeed a piece of the shimmering robes the aliens wore, sticking out of the wall showing a crack in it. It must have been the exit.

A smile pulled at his lips, the plate seemed to have a thin edge. He dumped the steak onto the tray and tested the material. It seemed to be made of a sturdy metal. With careful maneuvering he managed to forge the edge into the tiny crack and pry the door open farther.

He pried it open enough to get his fingers into the crack and pulled with all his might. Slowly, the door started to move. He only opened it far enough to squeeze his body through. It led into an empty hallway.

There didn’t seem to be any security. In fact, there didn’t seem to be any activity at all. His luck couldn’t be that good, but he couldn’t afford not to continue forward.

He followed his instincts. Something was drawing him. He made his way down the maze like corridors, and wondered if those two aliens were the only two aboard. Could they alone run a ship this large?

And the other thing weighing on his mind was why did he feel like he was getting closer to Spock. He ducked into a closet, hearing someone’s approach and waited for them to pass before continuing on. So maybe they weren’t the only ones after all.

Two more turns and he found himself in what looked like a lab. There were two glowing stone tablet looking things against one wall and some monitors attached to them, some transparent, cylindrical containers filled with some sort of fluid and big enough to fit a person inside it, and another bed like thing where Spock was laying apparently unconscious.

One of those alien things was bent over Spock, holding a device near his head. Bringing his hands together, Jim swung down hard, striking the alien from behind. The alien fell to the ground, and Jim went to Spock’s side.

“Spock,” he whispered harshly. The Vulcan looked extremely pale, deathly so, but his chest was moving. “Spock,” he whispered again, touching the side of his face.

Spock’s eyes snapped open and he jerked away violently almost rolling off the bed. The motion appeared to make him paler if that was possible, and he rolled over to his front, vomiting on the other side. Even after the contents of his stomach were empty, he kept dry heaving.

Jim reached out instinctively to help, but stopped short, unsure if his touch was what caused it in the first place. “Spock?” he said softly, trying not to sound like he was in a hurry.

“J-Jim?” he turned his face just enough so that they’re eyes met until Spock started dry heaving again.

He couldn’t help it, Jim touched the Vulcan’s cheek with his finger tips, testing to see if he would shy away from him again while trying to see if he was too cold or running a fever. He hadn’t expected Spock to lean into his hand, almost desperately, closing his eyes and reveling in his touch. Spock did feel a bit too warm, and his control was in tatters. Jim could read everything in his face, pain, fear, and the frustration of not being able to control his emotions. He was struggling, and his form was beginning to shake. What did they do to him?

“We need to get out of here Spock. Do you understand that?”

Spock shook his head, but it wasn’t in answer to Jim’s question. It was more like he was forcing control and trying to clear his mind. “Y-yes.”

“Can you walk?”

“I will t-try.” Spock’s hand clutched Jim’s bicep and didn’t appear to be aware of his strength as he gripped onto the human as if his sanity depended on it. With the emotional wreck that he appeared to be in, it might not have been far off.

Jim had to grind his teeth to ignore the pain and hope Spock didn’t break his arm. “Come on, let’s stand up.”

Jim supported most of Spock’s weight when Spock made a noise of distress when placing weight on his injured leg. If Spock wasn’t so heavy, Jim would have carried him. As it were, he helped Spock walk towards the exit of the lab. “Don’t worry Spock, we’ll get out of here,” he whispered, focusing on projecting calm emotions through their touch. “Just hold on.”

The door closed behind them.

As soon as the door closed, the alien picked himself off the floor, and the blue eyed alien joined him. “He came for the Vulcan as suspected.”

Blue Eyes nodded. “It appears they share a telepathic bond of some sort. Subject Kirk knew where he was going.”

“It is becoming increasingly probable that the reason for Kirk’s success is because of the person by his side.” The other said. “I believe the humans call the emotion love.”

“Affection towards the subject could be the key. Both Subject Spock and Subject Jabari had kept Kirk’s actions within an acceptable range and provided emotional support when needed.”

“This is the first time Subject Kirk has shown such attachment however,” Grey Eyes said, looking at the sliding door the duo had left through. “Let’s see how successful they are in their escape attempt before we collect them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurs to me that the beginning and the middle are redundant. My editor never said anything about it in the really rough version of this, so I'm not going to do anything about it until I get sleep. All of you should love me for doing this for y'all cause I felt guilty for the late update.
> 
> Comment please!


	18. Prison Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leonard Nimoy,
> 
> One year has passed since your death. One year since the world was deprived of a great man. You were a man who fought for what was right, a man who brought to life an iconic character who inspired many, a man who had many friends and family who loved you and you loved right back, a man loved and adored by millions, first for Spock and then for himself. A year may have passed, but you have not been forgotten. You have left your mark, and you shall always live long and prosper.

Luca waited for the two soldiers to pass before daring to scurry across the window. During his escape, he managed to climb onto the outside of the building on the third floor. With the guards running around as they were, it had been impossible to move around inside. The ledge was thin and if he weren’t a child, he would have fallen off. If Luca had escaped with shoes, it might have caused him to have fallen off as well.

He had been in gymnastics before all this, and the only way down was to get to the first floor was to drop to the lower. He hoped his fingers were strong enough to grab onto the thin ledge. Without much hesitation, he jumped. He got wall burn on his nose and chin, and his body slammed into the side of the wall when he grabbed on, but he managed to keep his hold. Glancing down for a quick second, he let go to fall the rest of the way down. He winced as his ankle twisted unpleasantly. Grinding his teeth, he took deep breaths and waited for the worst of the pain to edge off.

After a couple moments he stood. It didn’t seem broken, but it hurt to put pressure on it, not that it made a difference. He had to keep going. He would keep going, twisted ankle or not.

He only made it 19 meters when he was grabbed from behind. “There you are you little punk.”

At the sound of the unfamiliar male voice, Luca went into a panic, struggling with all his might, to afraid to scream or even breath.

The man growled, growing frustrated with Luca’s attempts, “Stop moving. Your aunt’s worried sick, and you’ve put the entire place on alert.”

No, he was lying. The adults always lied to get what they want.

He was quickly descending into a panic attack, as his breathing continued to deteriorate, and his movements grew more and more desperate. He cried out mentally for Jim to help him. Jim promised he would come, he just had to scream. Just something, anything to get Jim’s attention, but with his struggling and hyperventilating, he was losing consciousness.

Just as darkness took over most of his vision, the arms that held him dropped him, and Luca landed on his bad ankle. Luca shivered violently, unable to suppress it. Reality seemed to distorted, and he fought his way through his muddled thoughts of fear and panic.

Another set of hands grabbed him, and he was about to lash out when he paused at the familiar voice. “Luca, where’s Kirk?”

He turned to look at Lieutenant Uhura. “I don’t... I-I dunno,” he choked out, tears in his eyes. “H-he didn’t c-c-come.”

“Come on Luca, you have to stay with me.” She touched his cheek softly, brushing away his tears with her thumb. “Did you say Jim never came?” At the boy’s nod, she bit her lip worryingly. “Alright, let’s get you out of here.” She helped him stand and directed him to their escape vehicle.

As she strapped him into the vehicle, he finally asked, “Where is he?”

Her dark eyes met with his and honestly replied. “I don’t know.”

He let out a sob which had Uhura looking around uneasily. “He left me.”

“No, no, no,” she assured, hurrying into the driver seat. After she closed the door and started the engine, she said. “He’s still looking for you and Spock. I promise. You just beat him to it.”

“So you’re going to leave him?” he asked, eyes glancing at the door handle debating if he should jump.

“No, just moving. We won’t leave him.” Her hands tightened on the wheel. “We won’t leave anyone, not even Decker.”

Somehow, Luca managed a scowl despite his tear stained face. “We can leave that taHqeq.”

At the Klingon word, the lieutenant smiled. “He’qab je.”

Luca gave a small grin which he tried to muffle, but never the less said, “HIja.”

* * *

 

Jim struggled carrying the heavy Vulcan throughout the seemingly endless corridor. There had been no doors or turns since entering the hallway, and Spock was barely moving his feet. The thought of Spock’s condition had his anger bubbling to the surface. How dare they do this to him, to Spock. If he ever got his hands on them─

Spock flinched away from him violently, stumbling until Kirk grabbed a hold of him again. “Jim,” he whispered hoarsely. “Your anger.”

“Sorry. Sorry. Just give me a moment.” Putting a lid on his anger was proving a challenge as most of him really didn’t want to, but seeing Spock’s distress, he closed his eyes and focused on projecting calm thoughts once again.

It took a minute before the calm settled in enough for Spock to touch him without discomfort. “Did they attack you telepathically?”

With a bare shake of his head, Spock leaned heavily on Kirk, though it appeared his feet were moving a bit faster. “My shields were already compromised.” Spock struggled to stand upright on his own, determined to try to get himself functioning again. “I tried to block my pain receptors, but the task proved too taxing and my shields fell completely.”

Anger started to rise to the forefront of Jim’s mind once again, and Spock’s hand gripped tight enough to bruise Jim’s waist in response.

“They injected me with a substance as well. I believe it is further inhibiting my mental controls. I am uncertain if it was intentional or not.”

“It doesn’t matter if it was or not,” Jim grinded his teeth. He felt Spock tense again. Frustrated he tried to clear his head of all thoughts, but the conversation was not helping his attempts to stay neutral. “I should have killed that thing back there.”

“Jim . . . I caught glimpses of their world. It is similar to what you described on Tarsus and what we have witnessed on the colony, perhaps worse.” Spock stopped and met with Jim’s gaze the best he could. “They are trying to save their people from destruction. They truly believe you are the key to have stopped their societal collapse. They do not know that their attempts are futile.”

Jim really didn’t care what their reasons were. They killed people who were important to him. Destroyed the great man he could have been. Still, he could not help but ask, “What do you mean by it being futile?”

“Their home world is in the Trovas system.”

It took a second for the name to ring a bell in Kirk’s head before he recalled that two and a half years ago, a deep space probe had returned from the Trovas system. The data recorded stated that there were only remnants of planets left and no life forms. The debris was almost 300 years old.

“So you’re telling me all those people died, and they ruined so many lives for a cause that didn’t even exist?” Homicidal urges flashed across his thoughts. He should have killed them. He should have taken revenge. He should have…

“If you were to kill them, Jim, would the result be worth being the one to cause their extinction?”

“I can’t overlook what they did.”

“’Do whatever it takes to survive.’ Were those not your words, Captain?”

Sometimes, Jim really hated Spock’s perfect memory. “Can you keep going?” he asked, hoping to change the subject and stop his mental homicidal monologue.

“I believe my wounds have reopened.”

A long string of curses escaped from under his breath.

“I believe we are going in circles. We have passed that smudge of dirt to your left two times previously.”

Kirk threw a mock glare at his first. At least Spock seemed to be recovering slightly. He just hoped to have found a way out or something by now.

“There has to be some way out. They can’t walk through walls . . . Teleportation maybe?” He wondered aloud. “Is there telepathy that strong?”

Spock shook his head. “Their minds are indeed complex. I have difficulty deciphering the images and emotions they inadvertently sent through their touch; however, I did not sense telepathic abilities from them. Nothing on the level that would be necessary for teleporting without the aid of a device.”

“But in case that device malfunctions, there has to be a way in and out.” He hadn’t seen any switches. The walls had been perfectly smooth as far as he could tell. “Can you stand on your own?”

Spock nodded weakly, so Jim made sure he was steady before letting him go. His hands brushed against the wall, feeling for anything out of the ordinary. A crack, a pressure plate, anything that would help.

He seared the wall for about a meter when his hand grazed over a panel that lit up from his touch. A grin broke out as he turned excitedly to Spock. A part of the wall disappeared into a doorway, revealing a docking bay with a single egg shaped craft that glistened from the overhead blue tinged lighting.

Jim entered the hanger, quickly inspecting the surrounding area. Spock managed to walk on his own, though at a slowed pace. The human touched the craft, wondering how they were going to get inside when everything went black. Not black, more like faded away into nothing. Like a mirage or dream. And when reality set in before him again, Jim wanted to punch a wall.

They were back to where they started in their windowless, doorless cell with the two aliens before them.

“Well done, Captain. You are as resilient and intelligent as we predicted, though we expected you to figure out that you were going in circles sooner,” Green Eyes stated.

“Perhaps the hunger and fatigue played a larger factor than we calculated,” Blue Eyes commented. Jim was getting extremely tired of being talked about as if they weren’t in the room.

“For the next experiment,” Blue Eyes looked at both Spock and Jim respectively, “we shall allow you to determine who will come with us.”

“Why don’t you just choose yourself,” Jim snapped. “We already chose last time.”

“It is a part of the experiment,” Green Eyes responded. “And last time you were incapable of stopping the Vulcan for choosing for you.”

“If you are to go, Captain or Dr. Emmett, there is a 92 percent chance that you will go mad,” Blue eyes comment. An image of an enlarge brain appeared before him, one area was black and a few were grayed out. The black area was what kept aggression in check as the grayed areas were various parts involving memory. “As you can see nothing fatal, but it would inhibit your ability to put a lid on your more violent emotions.”

Jim also noted that the alien had crossed its arms, hand in the overly large sleeves, hiding them from view, before the image emerged.

“However, if the Vulcan comes with us to undergo the same experiment,” Green Eyes continued, “there is a 72 percent chance of death.”

“A Vulcan mind seems more susceptible to the experiments than a human one. It cannot be helped,” Blue Eyes glanced over at its partner.

That wasn’t much of a choice, and Jim was seething on the inside. It wasn’t an option of course. He would never allow one of his crew to be put in a life and death situation like this. Whether madness or death was better, he didn’t know, but he wouldn’t let someone else make that decision.

He felt Spock’s presence beside him. “Jim, a word.”

Spock had his hand lifted just above Jim’s psi points, asking permission. It made sense to use a meld to convey their conversation. They had even melded a couple times during missions before, but Jim felt weary of it. He didn’t want Spock to find out how gruesome his feelings were first hand. Through touch was one thing, directly from his mind was another.

“It will be light,” Spock said as if sensing Jim’s reluctance. Given the situation, it was only logical for Jim to concede to his will. With a brief nod, he gave his permission.

He felt Spock’s fingers, slightly cold and trembling, touch his face and the light brush of the Vulcan’s mind. The meld was dangerous, Jim picked up from Spock’s thoughts. The Vulcan’s mental state was much worse than he had let on. His control over the meld was sloppy. It was a disgrace to have allowed this to happen.

Spock realized he was letting his private thoughts slip into Jim’s mind. The control stabilized, but even Jim could feel the struggle.

_I apologize, Jim, but this the only way without being overheard._

_ Don’t worry about it now Spock. In any case, I already made up my mind. I’m going. _

_I must disagree. If you were to go, then our chance of escape will be nearly zero. I do not have the creativity that you have and my cognitive functions are far below optimal. Your mind however, is still sharp. As you come up with 98 percent of our escape plans, it has to be you._

_ I won’t let you be some self sacrificing bastard, Spock. _

Warmth touched Jim’s mind. It felt warm and safe, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. _Then I trust you will find a way before it comes to that._

Naturally, Jim wanted to protest, scream that Spock was being insubordinate and had to follow his commands, but Jim was already falling into unconscious, put there by Spock’s meld.

 _You will wake in exactly fifteen minutes._ Jim heard Spock say. Jim was forming a response when the world fell away and his mind finally quieted.

When Jim awoke, Spock was indeed gone. He’d really have to talk to Spock about employing underhanded methods against him. Maybe he taught Spock to embrace his human side too much.

“That’s some loyal first officer you got yourself there.” Emmett said, gaining Jim’s attention. “He looked like shit and still didn’t hesitate to knock your ass out to go himself.”

“No one asked for your opinion,” he replied back coldly.

“You left me here during your first escape attempt. You didn’t think there’d be hard feelings?”

“You did try to kill me.” Jim stood up and inspected the wall he had previously escaped from. As he thought, it was no longer there.

“I don’t think you have the right to judge me given the circumstances,” she approached him and Jim kept his front to her.

“I don’t judge you for it, but I personally would have rather died than resort to certain things.”

She clicked her tongue. “From your history, I doubt there were few things you wouldn’t have done to ensure your survival.”

Jim smiled wryly. “Perhaps, but I don’t think now’s the time to argue over moral choices. You can help me get out of here.”

She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. “How’s that? There’s no way out.”

“I have a theory, but we need to get one of the aliens here.”

“And how do you propose we do that?”

“Still thinking on it.” His eyes flickered to the knife on their tray before sitting down, back towards her with the tray in front of him.

She raised an eyebrow, catching on. While Jim sat, pretending to eat, she took the knife from the tray and pretended to attack him, accept she managed to actually get his shoulder. Jim winced and blocked another attack, struggling to keep the knife from penetrating his chest.

As Jim suspected, they were being watched. The woman got off him, throwing the knife and tray with deadly accuracy. The alien dodged with amazing reflexes, and Jim picked up the knife to charge the alien. Even if he got taken down, he suspected Emmett could finish the job before the alien stopped her too. Unexpectedly, the pain he braced himself for never came. The alien seemed surprised as well and made an obvious move for his left wrist, but at that time, Jim was already on him, stabbing the knife right between the eyes.

“That was easy,” Emmett said, making a move for the knife.

Jim managed to grab it before she could. “Probably because the murder attempt seemed too real.” Jim glanced at the body. From the wound oozed a translucent yellow that almost looked like goo. “And they were scientists. With their ship design and even their psychological tests they rely heavy on technology. I figured they never really been in a fight.” And when the technology failed, he instinctively went to see why.

Jim took a look at the alien’s left wrist. There was indeed a device located there. It was a bit bulky, about half an inch thick and 5 inches long that wrapped around the wrists with three distinct buttons. Curiously, there was what looked like knife damage on the casing. There were also signs of attempts to fix the damage meaning it happened recently but before their escape attempt just then.

Either way, Jim took the device off the alien and put it on himself. As soon as it was in place, the device bit into his skin, making him wince.

**_Cross circuit 2903B9 is broken. Punishment function is disabled. Connection to ship’s computer is malfunctioning. Only procedure still operation is teleportation. Do you wish to continue repairs now or continue with use?_ **

So that’s how they did it. The device connected to their nervous system, and it responded. It wasn’t psychic activity after all. _Continue use._

The device beeped and Jim instantly knew how to use the teleportation feature. He thought vaguely at first, not sure where he wanted to go. He just knew he wanted out of this room. The device responded and the similar feeling of being transported washed over him. Before he dematerialized though, he felt Emmett latch onto his arm. When he reappeared, he was indeed outside the room. It looked like a hallway.

The hallway he entered though was different than the one he had before. It was a smooth corridor, but a twisting path with steep ramps and dips. There were still no doors but there were signs on the walls. It appeared there were rooms behind the signs.

He fiddled with the arm device focusing his thoughts on finding the control room. He felt his molecules scrambling yet again and the woman gripped his shoulder tightly, making sure to materialize with him.

When he reached his destination, it was unlike any control room he had ever seen. There was what looked like a long rectangular structure that was about waist height with a chair in front of it. The panel was completely smooth save for a large, red sphere protruding from the middle. The rest of the room was filled with rows and rows of black slabs the size of large bookcases that looked as smooth and glossy as marble. Each slab emitted a soft hum that was almost soothing.  

“What the hell are these things?” Dr. Emmett touched one of the slabs. The slab glowed, and its humming grew louder. Even after she backed away, it continued to glow.

Jim only spared the object a glance. It was probably a storage vessel, but there was no way they could navigate through the units by touch alone. He went to the console, eyeing the glossy finish before touching the globe. The red sphere warmed under his touch and a holo screen appeared in front of him. A bunch of symbols scrolled over the screen that was unrecognizable. It was blocky and jammed together with different shades of grey.

It wasn’t anything useful. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He just wanted to know if there was anything he could use to add his escape and if his crew was safe.

A picture of Bones, Uhura, and his three security officers popped up in the screen along with a bunch of information written in that strange language. Each picture was the same as the ones in the Starfleet Database. So the computer responded to thoughts like the arm device.

The moment his thoughts wandered, the page disappeared and once again scrolled through bunch of information, changing with his thoughts. Jim tried to focus his thoughts back on Bones. The page came back up, and he willed to know if he was infected.

A 3-D DNA helix appeared to his right, twirling slowly in the air followed by dividing cells. The cells were damaged. Not heavily but noticeable. McCoy was infected.

Damn them. Were they going to take someone else too? What about everyone else on the colony? What about Luca? A cure, there had to be a cure. They created the damn thing. He focused any information they could give him on the fungal virus. A bunch of information scrolled by, it would take time to decode the language but there was one thing that was useful right away that even he recognized. Atoms. The atomic structure no matter where in the universe was the same. It was a map, instructions, on how to figure out what exactly they were dealing with and how to counteract it. He just needed to figure out a way to─

A large metallic crate was stashed in the corner of the room. There seemed to be an array of human items. Toys, old technology dating aback a hundred years, holos, but more importantly…

Tape decks!

Jim moved to pick one up. It was an old model, square and blocky that worked similarly the old USBs of the 21st century. It was nearly 40 years old, but if these aliens had them, they had to have had a way to examine the contents.

He grabbed a few as Dr. Emmett wandered to the bin, digging around herself. He didn’t even think of how he was going to get the information onto them until he realized there was no insert for them. He tried the computer but the only information he received was the strange text. He tried thinking specifically what he wanted to accomplish. He wanted to have information stored on the tape.

One of the tapes that had been spread out on the surface levitated with a yellowish light. Everything was actually working out. If he could get the information stored onto these tapes, he could save people.

He eyed the screen waiting for the download to finish when he felt a searing pain in back of his head. He fell against the panel, hand falling off the sphere to grip whatever he could, trying to get his baring. He barely registered the next strike that had him flat on his back. He was vaguely surprised to see Emmett behind him, holding an old bulky tricorder, his blood coating the edge where she struck him. How could he forget she was there? He was a fool to turn his back to her, so excited to find something of use. A chance to change something for the better. It had blinded him, and his common sense.

Dr. Emmett, approached him, tossing the tricorder aside. “I’ve been dying to do this. I kept wondering why me? Why did this happen to happen to me and Randy?”

Kirk tried to sit up, but the ground kept tilting underneath him.

“Then I get beamed up here and find out it was all because of you. If you hadn’t been so special, if you hadn’t caught their eye, they might not have repeated this damn experiment. My beloved brother wouldn’t have had to die.”

She easily knocked him back on his backside, mounting him and wrapping her hands around his neck. “It’s all your fault. Your fault I had to do all those things to survive. The only comfort I had was that Randy’s son was still alive, that as long as Luca was safe and sound, I could keep going, but you took him away from me too. He trusts a complete stranger more than me.”

Shit he was losing consciousness. He could barely understand what she was saying.

“Just depriving those aliens of their experiments makes killing you even sweeter.” She smiled bitterly. “Afterwards I’ll blow this ship sky high and send those alien bastards and that Vulcan with you.”

That’s right, Spock. He still had to save him. Jim tried to think back to his academy training. His thoughts were muddled and swimming. Any moment he was going to lose consciousness. He relied on his body to react. He shot his palm up towards her chin, snapping her head back, when her grip loosened, he took the opportunity to switch their position, so he was on top. Before he thought about it, he twisted her head sharply until he heard a snap.

He stared at the body beneath him blankly, longer than he should have and slowly he got off her to finish the download. It took several minutes. His ability to focus enough to use the computer was compromised, and it took seven attempts to get it right. The information spanned three disks, and he pocketed them. Searching the bin, he found some old parts. Parts that could overload if he set them too, especially the old phaser packs he found. While useless without a phaser model to hold them, they could explode easily if exposed to heat.

He spent five minutes setting it up. He had ten minutes to grab Spock and beam themselves back down to the planet if they couldn’t find the shuttle hanger. He thought of the lab he had found Spock in before and used the device again.

Luckily, it was the room Jim was searching for. He was worried that maybe the room had been a set up like their previous escape. However, what he saw made his stomach drop.

Spock was stripped of his shirt and shoes, restrained against an examiners table tilted so Spock was upright, with leather like fetters around his wrists, ankles, neck, and waist. There was a large sickly dark green bruise over his heart, the phaser wound had reopened, dripping emerald green down too pale skin, and various contusions and lacerations covering his face and torso. What really made him sick though was the state of Spock’s hands. While the left one was sliced up neatly as if dissected, the other looked like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it and crushed it.

The realization hit him that these aliens may not have wanted to kill Spock, but they didn’t plan to use him again. As long as he was breathing, Jim would have done anything to make sure they didn’t kill him, but there were other Vulcans they could use in their experiments, so they didn’t have to be careful. Not like with him. And if Spock died, it was a minor inconvenience to them.

His anger boiled over. He took the heavy old tricorder and approached the alien while his back was turned and brought it down as hard as he could. The alien fell, yellow liquid pouring out of the wound. It seemed he injured him for real this time. He didn’t dare touch him in case he somehow accidentally woke him. The urge to take a knife and just finish the bastard off was strong, and Jim took the knife into his hand. The only thing that stopped him was the wheezing in Spock’s breathing and the comment earlier that Spock had made. Spock hadn’t wanted the last of this alien race to be killed by his hand. Instead, he got to work getting off Spock’s restraints.

He only managed to get the torso and neck when pain ripped through his mind. He couldn’t even gain the strength to lift his arms to catch himself as he fell. The only sight he could make out was of the alien getting off the floor, hand on its device.

“I must admit Captain that you are proving to be persistent. I did not expect a second escape so soon.”

Weakly Jim looked up with a glare until the pain intensified, making his thoughts numb once again.

“I do not wish to kill you, Captain, but please be cooperative. The work we are doing is to save our people. While I can sympathize with your pain, there is no other way. You are the key to saving my family.” The alien’s voice broke its even cadence, faltering on the word, “family”, and the irises of its green eyes darkened. “And if I must, I will punish you until you do behave.”

The pain relented, and Jim could only twitch on the floor. Even so, he forced out a broken chuckle. “Your . . . family is . . . dead. Entire system . . . dead.”

Whatever sympathy or guilt the alien felt hardened. The pain started up again. “Lying is not productive, Captain.”

Jim’s body twitched violently. His breath left him, too painful to even breathe and everyone gained the past two weeks throbbed and burned. He hurt until he could no longer feel the pain. He felt light in fact, disconnected from his body. It felt as if he was on the sidelines, watching the alien frown as he turned off the device once again. The thought crossed Jim’s mind that he pushed too far, that he was now broken. Maybe he went insane, maybe that’s why he couldn’t feel anything anymore.

A morbid curiosity washed over Kirk as to why the alien looked worried. Suddenly, Spock let out a loud and ferocious roar, pulling out of rest of his restraints with strong jerks of his limbs. His dark eyes were ablaze with a savagery that Jim had never seen before.

The sudden behavior caught the alien off guard as well, and Spock, even with his broken body, moved faster than he should have been able to, back handing the alien with superior Vulcan strength with his forearm. The alien fell. Its reaction was to use its device, but Spock beat him too that too, crushing it under his foot along with the alien’s wrist, making the creature scream in pain.

This wasn’t Spock. What was wrong with him? Jim thought distantly. He swore he could hear Spock’s voice, full of pain and hatred.

_Katra slipping. Jim dying. Not again. Must save. Death to the one who wishes to harm my t’hy’la._

The alien made a grab at the phaser wound, digging its fingers into it, making the blood run faster. The pain only seemed to anger the Vulcan more, and raising his abused hands, he punched the aliens face again and again with all his might.

It was a repeat with Khan, Jim realized. Spock was bleeding too much, there was a puddle forming underneath him, mixing with the yellow, and Spock was still yelling, still punching even after the body was no longer moving, and the alien’s head no longer in one piece.

Jim had to make himself move. His body didn’t wish to cooperate. It was a struggle to get to his hands and knees. His head was throbbing, his vision going in and out, but he had to stop Spock. They had to get out of here.

On unstable feet, Jim made it to Spock’s side, pulling at Spock with all his might. “Spock, enough, he’s dead. Just stop.”

Yet Spock wouldn’t stop. He kept going and going. Frustrated, he focused his efforts into bringing Spock’s left hand to his psi points, projecting his well being as best he could. “I’m here Spock,” he gently. “I’m here.”

Spock jerked his head to Jim as if shocked to see Jim kneeling beside him. A second passed, then two. As if as switch had turned off, all the energy seemed to drain out of his body and the damage caught up with him. He passed out in Jim’s arms.

Jim didn’t even get a moment of peace. The first explosion went off, rocking the entire ship. Cursing in five different languages, he tried to stand with a dead weight Spock. It was impossible. Dizziness and nausea took over, and he collapsed to the floor. He was at his physical and mental limit. Was this where he was going to die? Another explosion went off nearby. Flames were erupting from the lab computer. So he would literally go up in flames. It wasn’t a bad way to go. It could be worse. It could have been old age. Not as cool as dying after saving 400 lives though.

He glanced down at Spock and held him tighter. His only regret was letting Spock get dragged down with him. He shouldn’t have let Spock trick him into being the experiment. He shouldn’t have brought Spock on the mission at all. He should have followed protocol for once. The flames were quickly surrounding him. Even with one last attempt, Jim tried to stand. He couldn’t even get off the ground. At least he was warm. He hadn’t even known he was cold.

His body grew as heavy as lead, and his head just wouldn’t stay up. Even with the fire around him, the world seemed so dark. Perhaps, it was for the best that he died. Maybe the fire would burn away all his dark deeds. He could only hope. Light surrounded him, and he returned to that weightless yet dizzy feeling. His last thought was that maybe in his next life, he could do it right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to get this out before the 27th was over for Nimoy. I'm a few minutes late. It is self edited, so tell me if there is a mistake or if something doesn't make sense. I struggles a bit with this chapter and it was written out of order.
> 
> taHqeq- dishonarable man/ someone who can't be trusted  
> He’qab je.- And he smells bad too  
> HIja- Yeah
> 
> Please Comment and tell me about your love for a great man (and if you want on the chapter as well. XP)


	19. Don't Tell Me You Love Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story is coming to an end in two more chapters. Didn't get much love for the last chapter. I thought it was decent...

" _Ji─im."_

_At the sound of his name, he turned partially around to meet the woman's gaze. He hated when they drew out his name like that. Why did women think that was cute? Even so, he put on a suave smile as he pulled on his pants. "Sorry, can't stay. Have stuff to do."_

_The women pouted, crossing her arms trying to bring across her displeasure as much as possible. Jim ignored her and picked up the phaser he had left on the night stand. "Where does a sixteen year old even get a phaser?"_

_The woman was startled by the cold look in Jim's eyes. When Jim smiled, his cold stare didn't dissipate even when he said jokingly, "If I told you, I'd have to kill you."_

_She laughed uneasily. "Well, when will I see you again? "_

" _Sorry. One night thing."_

" _Aw, come on." She tugged on his arm and dragged him back into bed. "We've been dancing around each other for a year now. One night isn't nearly enough."_

" _And why's that?"_

_She grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck, "Because I love you," she said kissing his cheek._

_Jim took her wrists into his hands and gently pushed her away. "Sorry," he replied, getting off the bed. "I don't get attached." As he made his way to the door he paused and added, "And you're an idiot. Love is nothing but a superficial illusion." With that parting message, he left the gaping woman behind._

* * *

McCoy sighed. What he wouldn't have given for a bottle of whiskey at that moment. The past 36 hours had been hell even by his standards. He slumped in the chair in his borrowed office. He wanted to sleep but was too afraid to. Just outside, visible from the office window, he could see his best friends both sound asleep in their biobeds, 36 hours ago he really thought he was doomed.

~

He escaped. McCoy wasn't sure if it was a good thing or bad thing at this point. He glanced at the white in the cracks of his skin again. All these years of saying how Jim was going to contract some mysterious space disease gallivanting across the galaxy, and he was the one who ended up catching it. Kind of like on Miri. Figures. Jim always had all the luck. The only difference this time was there were no lab and no Spock. Two things that had helped him figure out a cure in the first place.

Now he sat, leaned up against a tree wondering if he should find his way back to their previous camp site or if he should stay hidden. Jim would blame himself if he went back. The kid was like that, taking responsibility for things out of his control. Like the destruction of Vulcan or him being infected, and there was no known cure. The best they could do was sterilize the fungus and keep it from spreading. That was of course if they managed to get off the planet in the first place and that the fungus was the same strain as the one they previously encountered. It wasn't looking good for him. McCoy was aware of that.

Being faced with his mortality wasn't a fun past time, but as he contemplated what to do next, it was unavoidable. He closed his eyes wishing he could see his little girl again. Just because he was a workaholic, and he had a bit of a sour demeanor, his bitch of an ex-wife kept her from him. Joanna would grow up thinking he didn't care about her no matter how many presents or cards or letters he sent. That was probably his biggest regret closely followed by dying on Jim. He didn't want his best friend to slowly watch him die. It would be cruel to Jim to make him see that again, and with the hobgoblin by his side, Jim would still have someone to keep him out of trouble.

So that was it then. He'd stay away from them. On his own he wouldn't last long. Someone would probably kill him before the disease or hunger took him over. Maybe he could find something he could send a last message with. Leave a last message for Joanna and maybe some meaningful message for Jim and Spock. He knew Jim already had a message for him and Spock in case he died. It sounded like a good idea.

Just as he thought of some ideas on how to get his hands on a recording device, he felt the beginnings of being transported. "You have got to be shitting me!" he yelled out into the night air. Just when he accepted he was going to die, he gets rescued now?

McCoy had a few curse words for Scotty for waiting so long to rescue them, but where he materialized wasn't the _Enterprise_. It was the cargo bay of a constitution class vessel like the _Enterprise,_ but it was smaller, and he didn't recognize any of the Starfleet officers directing the survivors to sanitation stalls.

"You can't take me!"

The yell drew McCoy and everyone else's attention to a young man with a sharp rock in his hands. "I won't go to prison! I won't! I didn't mean to kill her. It was an accident," his hand shook, as he slowly backed away from the officers.

An officer tried to explain that no one was going to prison, but the man wouldn't have it. He ran, shoving people out of the way, yelling how it wasn't his fault. He was skin and bones, his hair long and knotted, and covered in grime just like a lot of the people around McCoy. What set him apart was that he was covered in blood, and had a large scab from his chin and neck down to his chest that was an angry red.

It took three officers to stop him, stunning him multiple times before he went down. Unfortunately, with the man's poor physical condition, the excessive stunning was too much on his heart. Doctors rushed over to try to resuscitate the individual, and the rescues were growing agitated at the sight.

Whoever was in charge must have realized that and had the man carted away. Uneasy now, McCoy looked around. The rescue must have just started. Judging by how few there were in the cargo bay. About a hundred, maybe a little more. But why the cargo bay? What was wrong with the transporter room to the point they had to redirect everyone from the transporter computer to the cargo bay? It was a much more risky procedure.

"Excuse me!" McCoy looked at the man who had approached him. He was in Starfleet scrubs and looked desperate when he addressed McCoy. "Are you a Starfleet officer?"

"Yeah, I am. Is something wrong?" McCoy replied, his instincts telling him he wasn't going to like what the doctor had to say.

"From the _Enterprise_?"

McCoy nodded, really not liking where this was going. "Yeah, Chief Medical Officer Leonard McCoy. What in blue blazes is going on?"

Instead of answering, the young doctor dragged McCoy into the sanitation room, stripped him down, and had him scrubbed, sanitized, and redressed in borrowed scrubs all in the span of five minutes.

"What is going on? " McCoy repeated.

"You'll see when we get there."

The ship design was similar to the _Enterprise_ , maybe a bit more cramped, so it was easy to figure out where they were heading. Outside the transporter room, another young doctor stood, staring into the transporter room. The new doctor was dark skinned with short, black, curly hair, with a frown etched into his features with a hint of concern in his eyes.

The doctor leading McCoy went straight to him. "Doctor M'Benga, I found one of the _Enterprise's_ crew, Doctor Leonard McCoy."

The doctor named M'Benga looked relieved and exasperated at the same time, taking in McCoy's appearance. "I am sorry, Doctor McCoy. Regulation would normally forbid us from asking for your assistance given the trauma you have been through, but giving the circumstances, we will have to ignore it for now."

"What's going on?" McCoy demanded for the third and final time, growing impatient.

M'Benga's frown grew, and he waved away a few of the security members away from the door. McCoy looked through the door and inhaled sharply at what he saw.

Jim was lying unconscious on the transporter pad on his back, blood flowing from his ears and dark stains in his black shirt visible. His face was pale, possibly from blood loss, and he didn't look to be breathing.

Spock was there as well, leaning over Kirk and growling at whoever got too close, and he was bleeding, a lot. There was a puddle of blood beneath them. McCoy's instinct knew Spock should be on the edge of death and not conscious at all. And when he looked into Spock's eyes, he knew he was partially right. Spock's eyes were unfocused as if he wasn't even seeing anything. Spock probably couldn't even really attack them, but even on the edge of death, adrenalin was a powerful thing, and agitating Spock further would probably put the Vulcan in a worse position, opening any wounds that had managed to close, and using a phaser to stun him would most likely kill him with one shot just like the man in the cargo bay. It was the state of Spock's hands however that really made McCoy feel sympathy for the Vulcan. Any pressure on those hands should cause Spock immense pain in the condition they were in, and yet it didn't stop Spock from supporting Jim's head.

One of the security officers took a step closer, trying to reassure Spock of who they were, and Spock held the knife in his left hand higher in warning.

"As you can see Doctor McCoy, Commander Spock will not allow anyone near him or Captain Kirk. They've been here for the past ten minutes, and the captain's and the commander's vitals are dropping. If we wait until the commander is no longer able to defend them, it might be too late for both of them."

"Right," so they needed a familiar face. After a quick discussion with M'Benga, he walked into the transporter room with a hypo hidden in his pocket.

At McCoy's approach, Spock looked at him and growled, readying the knife in preparation for an attack.

"Stupid hobgoblin, what nonsense have you dragged Jim into now." The delivery was gruff and relatively normal to their usual banter, but he lacked his usual bite and it was said relatively softly. His words however did earn him some weary glances from the security team, silently asking if he was out of his mind.

Spock's brows drew together in thought, recognizing the voice addressing him. "D-doctor?"

"That's right, get that computer brain of yours working already. You realize you're cluttering up the transporter room and bringing down everyone's efficiency, right?" McCoy stopped a couple feet from Spock.

Spock's posture dropped considerably, and McCoy squatted in front of him. "You've done enough Spock. You protected him. It's time to put him in sickbay and patch Jim up yet again. Then we'll take a look at you too. "

Spock dropped the knife and nodded wearily. "Sahrafel nash-veh t'Jim ek'manek vu-tor."

McCoy didn't understand the words, but understood the sentiment. "Sure thing," he injected the hypo into Spock's neck, and the Vulcan was out in under a second.

M'Benga was ordering people around before Spock even toppled over. "Get those two into the same surgical room on the double. Ask the _Enterprise_ to send over their supply of T-Negative for the commander. Doctor McCoy, do you think you are well enough to join me in surgery?"

McCoy gave the man a wry grin, joining the man out the door, "I might need something to raise my blood sugar, and I guess I should mention it's against the rules without a medical and psychological exam."

M'Benga matched his smile. "I'll get you a something light, but do you want the explanation now?"

The middle aged, country doctor snorted. "Later then." He ran his hand through his hair, sighing heavily. "After we get those two idiots settled."

~

They had lost Spock three times on the table and Jim once. Jim was lost shortly after getting him to the surgical room from blood loss. Otherwise, his wounds weren't too bad. His mind had been overly stressed due to some outside influence, and it took three hours to stabilize his brainwaves again. It took a couple more hours for McCoy to patch up Jim's right arm that had the multiple stab wounds. Patching up a few more injuries, the one on his chest and shoulder included, Jim wasn't in too bad a state. He suffered a bit from smoke inhalation and might have a bit of a cough when he woke, but he would pretty much be good as new in a couple of days.

M'Benga didn't have as much luck. Smoke inhalation and blood loss was the least of Spock's worries. First off, they were low on T-negative. Spock had to give his own blood every month to keep up his own private supply. Because T-negative was rare among Vulcans, there weren't many donors. On top of that, the human element in Spock's blood made any donation useless without modifying it specifically for Spock. Adding to the fact that Spock used some of his supply a few months ago, the _Enterprise_ 's supply was lower than usual.

Then there was just the vast amount of damage Spock had gained the past 72 hours on planet. There were bruising around his spine and heart, lacerations, a phaser wound, and broken bones. His leg had to be rebroken and set properly. Plus Spock's brainwaves were erratic and went haywire whenever they tried to remove Jim from the surgical room. And then there were Spock's hands. M'Benga spent 10 hours trying to fix them after the 13 hours of surgery to fix everything else. While Spock's left hand had been sliced open with precision and dealt with carefully and therefore easy to fix, Spock's right hand was almost beyond saving. It had suffered a lot of nerve damage and his fingers had been in odd angles. If he had been a human, they might have considered cutting it off as a prosthetic would work better than the recovered hand. However, due to being a touch telepath, unless they had to, they didn't consider it. They were hoping they fixed enough of the nerve damage that Spock would be able to use his hand under normal everyday situations after some therapy. For now, Spock was in a healing trance in the isolation ward with Jim in another bed beside him.

McCoy had surprised M'Benga had allowed it and suggested it when he remembered neither of the two had been sterilized completely and a lot of people were going in and out of sickbay. M'Benga and his staff had been busy seeing to every colonist, administering vitamins, vaccines, and patching up injuries. The only part of sickbay that wasn't in a frenzy was M'Benga's office and Jim and Spock's room. This ship's doctor was nice enough to offer his office so McCoy could get some shut eye. He was exhausted. It had been 48 hours since he had rested, and two weeks since he had any real sleep. It was hard to believe that it had only been two weeks since they're accident. It felt so much longer.

And yet, he couldn't get any shut eye. His stomach was upset with real food filling it, and he was still going to die. Besides that, he always had trouble sleeping whenever Jim was in his sickbay, afraid that the moment he closed his eyes, the idiot would wake up and escape and then bleed to death somewhere. That last part had happened once. It was Jim's fault he was getting grey hair.

A knock on the door had McCoy looking up lazily, and M'Benga let himself in. "I take it you couldn't sleep."

"With those two," he pointed outside the window, "I rarely get sleep, especially when they're in my sick bay."

M'Benga smiled and took a seat opposite of McCoy. "I can imagine them being a handful. I don't envy you there." The young doctor yawned.

"You should get some rest."

"I have another couple hours before I can change shifts with another doctor. I just thought I'd have that talk with you while I can." M'Benga slouched in his chair, making himself comfortable. "I've been interning on New Vulcan for the past two years. Since they needed the help and I wanted the experience, it was a good opportunity. I learned a lot. About medicine and them."

He met McCoy's gaze. "A lot of humans seem to harbor the idea that Vulcan's don't feel rather than they control their emotions. It's hard for humans to make that distinction even though we know the truth theoretically. We forget that their history is full of violence and bloodshed, and that those powerful emotions don't go away just because they learned to control it. That being said, it doesn't mean it's easy to show those emotions either. Unless they lack discipline or are mentally ill, it is difficult to make a Vulcan show strong outbursts of emotions unless under certain circumstances. Pon Farr is one of them, though that is a biological function that cannot be avoided. Another way is to stir up their protective instincts, specifically involving their children and bondmates."

McCoy leaned back in his chair rubbing a hand over his face. "They aren't bondmates."

"No, but they do have some sort of mental link. He knew that Captain Kirk was nearby, and he went into a panic when the captain was to be removed from the room while completely unconscious. Added to the near savage behavior and disregards to his own health in the transporter room, I could guess that they're in some sort of relationship."

McCoy laughed. "It'd be so much simpler if they were. Believe me. But at this moment, no, they aren't seeing each other."

"I see. Either way, the commander would not allow anyone he was not familiar with to approach Captain Kirk. Unless you were in the surgical room with me, there was a high chance Spock would work himself into a panic." M'Benga looked out the window at the sleeping duo. "His control is in tatters if he couldn't even logically conclude that his protective behavior was harming Captain Kirk rather than helping him. He might require a Vulcan healer to help with the damage to his mind."

"No healers," McCoy said sharply, surprising the other doctor. "Ambassador Selek or Sarek, and only if Spock thinks they are needed."

To M'Benga's credit, he didn't ask why McCoy was so against a Vulcan healer. "I'll see what I can do."

The heart rate monitor above Jim's bed beeped, signaling his elevated heart rate and elevated brain activity. "Looks like he's waking up."

"I'll let you talk to him before I officially take you off duty."

The country doctor smiled softly, looking over to where his friend was waking up. "Thanks."

* * *

_Damn he was really drunk. His world around him was blurry and tilting. He should probably take a cab home. He looked for his pants in the dark room, fumbling around for them. As he straightened, he felt soft breasts press against his back and arms wrap around his shoulders. "Where do you think you're going handsome?"_

" _Areel, not tonight. I just want to go home." He checked his pant pockets to make sure he had everything keys, credits, phone, phaser, and a napkin with a girl's number. Good, so he wouldn't leave anything for once._

" _Come on Jim, we've been seeing each other for a couple months now. Don't you think it's time?"_

_He did not want to have this conversation. He never wanted to have this conversation. Still, he smiled at her. "Time for what?"_

" _To start seeing each other officially instead of messing around. I know you call me your girlfriend in public, but we both know it wasn't really serious. Hell you don't even spend the night. It's starting to feel like I'm a fuck buddy."_

_He resisted rubbing his temples. "Look, I just got out of a serious relationship, and I don't think I'm ready to─"_

" _Don't give me that bullshit, Kirk. I'm aspiring to be a lawyer. I can tell when you're lying, and I have evidence to back it up." She looked at him pleadingly with her big blue eyes. "I really like you, Jim. I might even call it love, but if you want to keep doing this, you have to take this to the next level."_

_There was that word again. "Sorry, Areel, but I really don't want anything to change anything between us."_

" _When are you going to grow up? You're 21 years old. Is being a player really that satisfying?"_

_Jim was tempted to say yes but decided he rather not pissed her off. She was going to be a good lawyer, and if she was ever to prosecute him, he rather not leave her scorned. "Look, I'm sorry, but I'm not ready. Can't you be happy I'm telling you the truth instead of pulling you along?"_

_Apparently it wasn't satisfying enough. She yelled at him to get out, and Jim stumbled out the door. Well he was planning to break up with her anyway. He pulled out his cell to call a cab, but eyed his bike. They were in the middle of nowhere. Putting his phone away, he mounted his bike._

* * *

His body was sore. That was the first thing Jim became aware of followed by the stiffness in his arm. When he opened his eyes, he made out a white, unfamiliar ceiling that slowly came into focus then he focused on the figure standing over him.

"How are you feeling, kid?"

Jim stared at McCoy for a couple seconds trying to recall what had happened. "Where's Spock?" he asked, trying to sit up.

The doctor snorted and glanced to the bed beside him. "Should have known you'd ask that first."

Jim followed his gaze and the tension in his chest eased at the sight of the sleeping Vulcan. He was safe. They did it. They escaped. Unless this was another sick illusion…

"You should take it easy for another day or so. If you stay put, I'll even let you out of sickbay early."

Bones was being too nice. Maybe he was an illusion. The thought disappeared from his mind when a hypo was jammed into his neck. He yelped at the pain.

"That's what you get for giving me yet another damn heart attack! Are you trying to kill me?"

Jim's eyes widened in alarm. He grabbed McCoy's scrubs and pulled him in close. "Where are my pants?"

McCoy looked startled at the sudden burst of strength but replied, "Probably on their way to the incinerator."

"Get them now! The secret to a cure is in there!"

McCoy cursed and was out of sickbay in a heartbeat, but not before he threw over his shoulder, "Move and I'll hypo you into next week."

Naturally, Jim moved to get out of bed. He flexed the fingers in his right hand and frowned. He couldn't feel his ring finger and pinky when he moved them. Still, the stiff feeling eased and his shoulder and chest only ached mildly thanks to the painkiller. The skin grafts still felt a bit tight but would ease in a day or so. He was a little dizzy but nothing he couldn't handle.

He turned off the monitors before getting out of bed and setting them off, and then dragged a nearby chair to Spock's bedside. Spock looked peaceful in sleep. He was covered in bandages, and he still had assistance breathing, but he was alive. He was going to live. Jim's gaze traveled to Spock's heavily bandaged hand. Gently, he rested a hand on top of it. "I'm sorry, Spock. I bet my counterpart never fucked over your counterpart this badly. If I was a proper captain, you wouldn't have been on that planet in the first place." Jim went quiet trying to figure out what to say. "I'm no good. I just hope my mistake doesn't cost you your hands, just… make sure you do wake up, okay?" He whispered.

Spock didn't reply, so Jim sat there and waited for when he could.

* * *

" _James Tiberius Kirk!"_

_He winced at the sound of his name. Figures he couldn't escape Uhura's room without being confronted about that first. "Gaila!" He said cheerfully hoping to calm the Orion woman down._

" _What the hell was that response earlier? I tell you I love you and you say "that's so weird"?" Gaila had thrown on an overly large T-shirt, probably left behind from an old boyfriend, but Jim was still in his underwear and would have preferred to have gotten a chance to get dressed before this conversation. It wasn't his fault his mouth spouted out things before he thought it over._

" _Look, it just slipped out. I didn't mean to say that. It just took me by shock. We've only been dating a couple months."_

_Gaila crossed her arms not convinced. "You're not just using me to pass that stupid test right?"_

"Yes _," Jim thought offhandedly. It was bothering the hell out of him. Who did this Commander Spock think he was? He could imagine the smug Vulcan face thinking no one could beat his test. It made him want to beat it even more. It was almost an obsession. After all, no one took the Kobayashi Maru test twice let alone a third time. He couldn't wait to meet the bastard after he beat it. If anyone could appreciate his brilliance in overcoming a no-win scenario, surely a Vulcan would. "Of course not. I like what we have." He hurriedly got dressed so people would stop staring at him and made sure nothing fell out of his pockets. His room key and pocket knife were still there._

_A smile eased on her face, and she gave him a kiss which he returned. "See you tomorrow?"_

" _After the test. You know what to do right?"_

_Gaila flipped her orange hair over her shoulder. "You can count on me."_

_Jim smirked and watched the Orion saunter away. He was so close to victory. He'd show that Vulcan professor that there was no such thing as a no-win scenario._

* * *

McCoy yawned. It had been a long two nights. He managed to save Jim's pants and have the contents sent to the labs and was up every hour out of habit to make sure Jim wasn't just waiting for Spock to wake. The man hadn't moved from Spock's bedside. When he entered the medbay, he was surprised to see Jim absent from Spock's side and the sight of M'Benga slapping the crap out of Spock. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

He was ready to pull the mad doctor off Spock, when Spock's left hand shot up and grabbed a hold of M'Benga's hand. "That is sufficient, Doctor M'Benga. Thank you for your assistance," Spock said gruffly, his voice dry and raspy.

McCoy stared inanely at the two of them. "How do you know his name?"

"Vulcans are well aware of their surroundings during their trance, Doctor McCoy. And I was slapping him to assist Mr. Spock in waking. Strong physical sensations are needed for the mind to refocus into consciousness."

Spock nodded in agreement. His brown eyes flickered to the empty chair beside his bed and said nothing other than asking for his medical charts which M'Benga obliged.

"You shouldn't give them too him," McCoy grumbled. "He'll just try to tell you how to do your job."

"On the contrary Doctor McCoy, I fully trust Doctor M'Benga's assessment. He is quite knowledgeable on Vulcan anatomy and has a fascinating resume."

McCoy glared at both of them then. "And you know this because?"

Spock glanced at the empty chair again. "I overheard the doctor talk about his internship on Vulcan and give a small lecture on Vulcan anatomy."

"Yeah, yeah, he's amazing, and I'm not. I'll remember that during your next physical."

"Spock, we have a few things to discuss, do you wish for Doctor McCoy to be present for it? He is your normal physician." M'Benga retrieved the medical chart from him.

"You may speak," Spock seemed to sag marginally into his bed until he used the remote to have the bed help him sit up.

"Spock, I recommend you see a healer to help address your shielding. Both Doctor McCoy and Captain Kirk have mentioned your unusual behavior, and I can take a good guess that like many of your Vulcan counterparts, you have been having trouble meditating since the destruction of Vulcan. Given the stressful situation you have been subjected to, it is no surprise your disciplines failed you."

McCoy noticed the stone like expression on Spock. A strong indication he rather not talk about it and be elsewhere. He supposed to M'Benga though, Spock had a typical Vulcan expression.

"You'll also need to undergo therapy. Both psychological and physical. Everyone in the landing party will be seeing a psychologist and subjected to a psych exam. As your Vulcan half is more predominant than your human half, I have no doubt it will only be a few sessions you have to muddle through."

"Of course," Spock said stiffly. "Anything else you wish to discuss?"

"Not right now, though the bandages on your hands need to be changed."

"I would like Doctor McCoy to change my bandages."

"Sure thing, Commander." M'Benga left the isolation room, leaving McCoy and Spock alone.

McCoy sat on the edge of the bed, taking Spock's right hand and carefully removing the bandages. Normally he wouldn't have sat on the bed as it was unprofessional, but he was tired and he felt maybe Spock would say what was on his mind if he didn't act like a doctor for once.

"If what M'Benga said was true, you already know that Jim is okay and was sitting here up until recently."

Spock nodded.

"He's in a guest room. Being captain has its perks. The rest of the rescues have to sleep in a crowded cargo bay."

"How are Lieutenant Uhura and Luca?"

"Still on planet it seems. There are places around the planet that naturally interfere with the transporter. Specifically the area around the central settlement. Most of the colonist arrived on planet through shuttle transportation."

"I see. And the _Enterprise_?"

"Scotty is finishing up some repairs. He's about a day away. He thought it'd make Jim relax more if the _Enterprise_ wasn't there to distract him." McCoy took a stylus and ran it from the bottom of Spock's palm to the tip of the index finger. Spock inhaled sharply. "You felt that?"

"Yes. It appears to be very sensitive."

"Be happy that you can feel anything at all." He repeated the action with the other finger. His pinky and pointer finger were overly sensitive while he couldn't feel anything in his middle two. "It's not going to be the same again, Spock. You're going to have difficulties moving them."

"But they will move. I will consider myself fortunate for that." Spock waited for McCoy to wrap up his hand again.

"Do I want to know how your hands got into this state?"

"Most likely not," Spock closed his eyes as McCoy got up to check his other hand.

"Hn, I should revise that and say tell me what happened but I won't. I'll just read your official report."

"Of course, Doctor."

McCoy left the bandages off his left hand. The back of his hand was still bit raw and red, but sufficiently healed. "Another day in sick bay and I'll convince M'Benga to let you go. I'll even let you know when they've located Uhura and Luca." He put a hypo to Spock's neck.

"Doctor…"

"What is it Spock?"

"Thank you … for stopping me."

The doctor paused then grunted with a small smile, "Isn't gratitude a human sentiment?"

"Being subjugated to …environment….contamination…. inevitab─" Spock drifted off.

"Couldn't just be honest with your feelings could you," McCoy sighed. "Damn hobgoblin."

At least now he could get some sleep. He reset Spock's bed so he was lying flat once again and updated his charts. Once he finished, he was looking forward to his first real sleep in weeks.

* * *

_Jim placed his phaser back in the armory, signing it back in. Their much deserved shore leave was spent well._

" _Did you enjoy your first shore leave, Captain."_

_Jim almost dropped his stylus at Spock's sudden arrival. "Why are you up so early in the night Spock? There's still 12 hours of shore leave left."_

" _I did not take shore leave. There were many experiments that required my attention."_

" _Right," Jim shifted awkwardly. Spock always came off as a bit closed off around him, like he was tolerating Jim's existence. "Well to answer your question, I enjoyed shore leave. The women there are so─" At Spock's quizzical stare, Jim stopped. "Never mind. Let's just say I enjoyed the local color."_

" _I fail to see why you find promiscuous behavior so appealing."_

_Coming from Spock, he felt a little embarrassed about his activities. "A distraction I guess. Don't you do it with Uhura when you're feeling stressed?"_

_Spock's posture became stiff. "If you are referring to sexual intercourse, Vulcans do not engage in such acts unless they are bonded."_

_Jim grinned. "Are you saying you're a virgin?"_

_A light green dusted the Vulcan's cheeks. "I see nothing wrong with waiting. Sexual intercourse's purpose is to procreate."_

_With a roll of his eyes, Jim said, "Why not? It's a stress reliever. As long as no one gets hurt and its consensual why does it matter?"_

" _I do not see the purpose of becoming intimate with so many individuals."_

_It was Jim's turn to become stiff. He took a defense stance, crossing his arms across his chest and his smile grew tight. "Who said it's intimate?_

" _Then you engage these individuals guarded? Does it really "relieve stress" if you must put so much effort in keeping your distance?"_

_Jim looked away, feeling the need to get out of there, badly. "Look, if you want to call me a slut or whore, say it straight out alright? Not that I need you judging me more than you already do."_

" _I was not implying that you were. Many humans engage in a similar past times, I have just never met one so detached from their romantic partners."_

" _Did you come here to analyze me Spock?" Jim asked coldly._

_Spock stood straighter. He seemed to consider whether or not he should continue speaking. "I came to ask if you would like to play chess. I believe you have an aptitude for the game, and I have often heard that it was a good way to relieve stress. As you have stated, shore leave still has 12. 298 hours left and playing a game or two would not interfere with your duties."_

" _You want to play chess with me?" he asked with surprise in his voice._

" _I have come to the realization that our constant arguments on the bridge could harm the crew's morale. I hypothesized that games of chess could help us better understand each other's motives." Spock's lips thinned. "However, if you do not wish to participate, I understand."_

" _No, just a bit surprised." Jim gave him a wide grin. "Let's go to Rec Room C."_

* * *

Just as McCoy had promised, he had let Spock out of medbay the next day. The _Enterprise_ had returned as well. Jim had gone over the moment it was in range, which wasn't a surprise. He still had a crew member missing, he had a mission report to write, a conference with HQ, damage reports to review, and crew members families to contact. McCoy had took him off duty for one more day to prevent him from working himself to death, but Spock hadn't seen him since he had awoken. The moment they were back on the _Enterprise_ , Jim had sequestered himself in his quarters, supposedly working.

Spock had another theory however. While it may have been true the captain was a workaholic, especially when he was stressed, he had a feeling Jim was trying to avoid him as well.

Crew members stopped to welcome him back as he walked down the halls. Everyone was so eager to welcome him and to wish him a swift recovery. The attention was a bit overwhelming. This was not their first life and death situation, and it would not be the last. If this were to happen after every mission, efficiency would decrease by 9.3 percent.

He contemplated on sending a memo about professionalism. He realized after the second paragraph of his mental draft that it was due to his own irritation that he found the excessive emotionalisms overwhelming. He knew Jim had been worried about him. He had felt Jim's hand on top of his and heard his words, and yet when he awoke Jim had disappeared. Spock had been unable to tell him that it was not his fault. It was his choice to go and Jim could not have stopped him. Jim did try to stop him.

Spock stopped in front of the captain's door.

He didn't expect Jim to say come in after the first knock as if expecting him. Perhaps if he had given it more thought, he would have seen it as the logical conclusion. They both knew they had to talk eventually.

When Spock entered, Jim was sitting at his desk, a hardback copy of _Drowning Whispers_ in his hands. The human didn't even look up at Spock when he entered. Instead, he closed the book and placed it down on the desk where Spock could easily see the title, then folded his hands, but Jim didn't look away from the book. "Back then. Why did you say those words?"

Spock too looked at the book. Jim knew. "While I was on planet, I managed to obtain a copy of the book and read it. Given the situation, it seemed appropriate at the time."

The human bit his lip before he tried for an easy grin to deflect from situation. The grin came out as a grimace, and he gave up trying to pretend that he was fine. "I was hoping that I was just reading into it too much. That the situation and your choice of words were just some weird coincidence with no feeling behind it." He stood up, but still he was unable to look at Spock even as the Vulcan came closer.

Jim looked frail, scared, and lonely, doing everything in his power to stay in command, to support himself, and to rely only on himself even if he didn't want to. Still he spoke in a stern voice as if trying to convince Spock of his next words, "I don't do love Spock. I don't get intimate with the people I have sex with. I just use them to make me forget and make me feel human." Spock stopped just in front of him. "I can't do that to you, I can't─"

Spock leaned forward and captured Jim's lips with his own, stopping Jim's rejection before he could accept Jim's excuses, and Jim kissed back with barely any hesitation, responding the moment he felt Spock's lips on his with a desperation he couldn't put into words. Spock wrapped his arm around his human's waist intending to pull Jim closer into the safety of his arms. The action seemed to snap Jim out of whatever trance he was in. He shoved Spock away.

"Don't," his voice cracked. "I don't want to use you too."

"You won't use me, Jim," Spock replied. "I trust you."

"That's the problem!" he yelled, anger burning brightly in his eyes. "If you knew me, knew the things I've done, you'd know you shouldn't. After everything you saw down there, you should know that I am not the man you all think I am!"

"Then let me see for myself," Spock countered, lifting his hand.

Jim's eyes widened then shook his head. "You can't unsee it, Spock. You'll regret it."

"Let me decide for myself."

Jim glanced at Spock's hand and guilt flashed in his eyes until he closed them. After a long silence, he gave his answer, nodding numbly. Spock closed the distance between them again. His left hand brushed Jim's temple and the young captain jerked away before he could steel himself not to move.

Spock paused, giving Jim another chance to back out. When Jim said nothing, he continued to place his fingers on his psi points.

Spock slipped into Jim's mind easily, the few melds shared during missions making it familiar territory, but moving deeper into Jim's thoughts, his memories, was met with a formidable wall. Spock could break through it if he wanted to, and he sensed Jim waiting for Spock to do it, but it would not accomplish Spock's true goal.

" _You must let me in, Jim. You must trust me."_

He sensed Jim wanting to scream no like a petulant child. After years and years of building walls between himself and people, after years of patching up his own emotional wounds it was unnatural to let go. To trust someone enough to let them see everything was something Jim feared most. Reluctantly, Jim relinquished his hold, little by little.

Once the first memory was released, the rest followed like a flood, having been repressed for so long. Jim's first kill, his first time, his constant pain of loss, his suicidal and selfish thoughts, his hatred and detachment, the never ending pain of hunger. Every memory from when Jim was on Tarsus to the nightmares after spilled into Spock's mind.

Spock broke the meld. Faintly he felt tears on his own face which mirrored the tears on Jim's, who had been forced to relive his memories when Spock shifted through them. "See. I'm more fucked up than you thought," he whispered.

Spock was caught in Jim's endless blue eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, bracing himself for rejection. With his thumb, he wiped away his tears, "I believe that the problem does not lie in what you have done, but that you have dealt with the aftermath alone." He stroked Jim's warm and flushed cheeks. "I grieve with thee, Jim."

A couple more tears fell down Jim's face. A weight had been lifted from his chest, and his shoulders sagged. How long had he waited for someone to finally say that to him and know exactly how much weight those words carried?

Spock captured his lips again, and Jim responded, softly at first, their lips just moving sensually against each other. Jim made the first move, wrapping an arm around Spock's neck to deepen the kiss, and Spock wrapped his arm around Jim's waist pulling him closer.

Jim's kisses trailed to Spock's jaw to the base of Spock's ear. He always had a fascination with them, wondering if they were as sensitive as his hands. He nipped his ear lobe then licked the shell to the tip, making the Vulcan shiver deliciously in his arms.

Without a word, Spock picked up Jim by his waist, leaving Jim's only option to wrap his legs around Spock's waist or be carried awkwardly. He went with the first option, his clothed erection sliding against Spock's in the process, drawing out a drawn out groan from both of them.

Spock attacked Jim's neck with kisses, biting hard enough to bruise before soothing it with his tongue. The pain mixed with pleasure was a heady mixture. Jim tilted his head so Spock had better access, faintly aware Spock was moving them into the sleeping quarters. "You sure you're up for this?"

Spock answered by depositing Jim on the bed and methodically taking off his shirt.

* * *

Spock slipped out of Jim's bed. It was only 0300 ship time. Their day was to start in another 3 hours, but Spock had more than enough sleep. He watched Jim, still asleep with the sheets tangled around his legs, barely covering any portion of his body. Their mess had crusted onto their skin while they had slept, an oversight Spock wouldn't overlook again, drool was trailing down the corner of Jim's mouth, and Jim's hair was awry, sticking in every direction. Even so, Jim was beautiful. Maybe even more so than last night. He had never looked as unguarded as he did right then.

Spock took the time to look around the Captain's sleeping quarters as he had been occupied the night before to get a decent look. He had never been in this part of the cabin before. There were very few personal items. While Spock's room was decorated in many items from Vulcan and New Vulcan, Jim's room was practically bare. The only personal items he could see in plain sight were items on the shelf above Jim's bed. There was a dirty doll falling apart at the seams, a cracked PADD, and an old fashioned hand written letter. The rest were commendations he had earned throughout his service from Starfleet.

The old PADD drew Spock's attention, and Spock picked it up delicately, less it fall apart completely.

"Didn't picture you as someone to touch other people's things without permission," came the mumbled reply. The words lacked any real bite or venom. Jim had rolled over to his stomach, staring at the item in Spock's hands.

"Is this the same PADD as the one mentioned in the book?"

Jim sighed at the question. "You suck at pillow talk, you know that?" He didn't even have to look at the Vulcan to know that he had an eyebrow quirked. Sighing again, he said, "Yeah, that's the one."

"I am surprised you kept it," Spock said flatly.

"Why? Jealous?" Jim said it in a teasing tone, hoping to rile Spock up and steer him toward a different conversation. When Spock didn't take the bait, Jim became wide awake and gaped. "Seriously?"

The corners of Spock's lips downturned, "I have noticed we are quite similar in many regards."

It was too early in the morning to try to translate Spock speech into standard. Hell it was too early to be awake in general. Forcing his brain to start up, he tried to follow Spock's thought process. It took a while to come up with a conclusion. Spock had already replaced the PADD in its spot and was settling on the floor to begin his meditation.

"You're not as similar as you think. You have a sense of humor for one. You talk a lot more too." He couldn't help but grin when he saw a small tick in the corner of Spock's eye. "And you tell me when I'm being a bastard or when my plans are shitty. Jabari…" he fumbled over the name he hadn't said in years. Somehow, it felt right to start saying his name again. "He was more of the let me fall and learn for myself then help me back up when I do." He met Spock's gaze, wanting him to understand his next words as he answered what was really bothering Spock. "I wasn't in love with him. I never thought of him more than a friend. But I will admit he definitely ruined the word love for me after reading his book. It made the word so hallow that I couldn't stand people saying it so casually. For so long, whenever someone said it to me, I'd get angry and think, if they loved me, they'd show it, not say it."

He looked down at the mattress, playing with the sheets between his fingers. "You sure you want to be with me, Spock? I don't know if I could ever return your feelings the way you want me to."

Spock let a small smile slip, and he gave Jim a warm gaze that warmed the human from the inside out. "And if that happens, Jim, then I will accept whatever you can give me."

* * *

_There really was no better place to spend shore leave. Well, when you were stuck at a starbase anyway. The Starbase 7's lounge was a nice place. There was a nice bar, soft, live music, and dim lighting. It was a nice place to pick up someone for the night or just mellow out. It was definitely easier on his hearing from his normal hunting grounds._

_The women were classier too, form fitting dresses that showed all the right curves but not too much skin and classy updos. He was wearing his dress uniform himself. He had just finished sitting through a court martial. He was too tired to go change into something more casual, and he didn't stand out here either._

_A woman made eyes at him across the room. It was a clear invitation, the way she looked over her glass while she drank. He smiled back, raising his glass to her. It was enough to encourage her to come to him. She wore a glittery white dress that had no back. The front of the dress stopped at her mid thigh while the back draped to the floor. Her four inch heels showed off her calves nicely and the way her hips moved when she walked was enticing._

" _Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're the infamous Captain Kirk, right?"_

_Jim put on his charming smile. "I am. I couldn't help but notice you're here alone."_

_She laughed. "If you come up with some line about how a pretty woman like me shouldn't be alone, it's really not necessary. I'm here for the same thing you are."_

_Straight and to the point, and she wasn't looking for a relationship. He really couldn't ask for more, especially when she pressed against him, breasts touching his shoulder as she reached for the wine menu._

" _So what do you say?" She asked. "We can go to my room."_

_He was stressed, and he hadn't been laid in a while. It was the perfect opportunity. He opened his mouth to tell her he would meet her there when he saw Spock in the corner of his eye. They're eyes met, and Jim leaned forward a bit concerned as to why Spock would seek him out in a place like this. "Spock? Something wrong?"_

_Spock seemed to hesitate and glanced at Jim's companion. "Everything is optimal, Captain. I see you have company. If that is the case, then please continue. My query can wait another day."_

_As Spock turned away, Jim noticed the portable chess case in Spock's hands. It never occurred to Jim before that this place could also be just a really fancy place to hang out to play chess at while sipping wine with a friend._

_He looked back at the woman. She was beautiful, graceful, and everything that a man could want._

" _Would you like to play a game of chess, Mr. Spock?" He asked, getting up from his bar stool. "There are some comfortable chairs and coffee tables over there."_

_Spock stopped in his retreat, turning back to Jim with suppressed surprise at the invitation. "I would not mind at this time, Captain."_

" _Jim." He said, turning to Spock with a small smile. "You can call me Jim."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the no sex scene guys. Eventually one day, I'll write it out, but I kind of suck at writing it, and I wrote this long chapter in practically a day. 
> 
> The Vulcan says, "I entrust Jim's safety to you."
> 
> Leave Comment Please.


	20. Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter before the epilogue. Hope you like.

_Jim didn’t trust them. Well, none of them really did. When they saw the Starfleet uniforms, they first thought it was another hallucination caused by hunger. Then they thought perhaps it was a trap. After stalking them and seeing a group of officers beam up to their ship, Jim decided to approach them rather than hide. If anything, they could at least get off this planet._

_He made sure he and his seven kids stayed in a group and beamed up together. When they arrived in the transporter room of the_ USS Allegiance, _the adults were there, talking down to them like children in friendly, high pitched voices in an attempt to reassure them. Minus the four year old, everyone else in the group felt annoyance at the treatment._

_“Let me talk to the person in charge,” Jim stepped forward, eying everyone in the room and cataloging their weapons and keeping an eye on the doctors scanning them with tricorders._

_A woman stepped forward with annoying sympathy in her eyes. He could tell right away she was only indulging him when she spoke, “Is something wrong?”_

_“I just want to make one thing clear, we don’t split up. I want to ensure they all get where they need to be.”_

_Jim didn’t believe it was much of a request. He wanted to make sure the kids he spent taking care of the past several months got to where they needed to be._

_The woman however shook her head. “I’m afraid that is not possible. There are varying levels of medical attention each of you need and there is not enough room on this ship to keep you together.”_

_Jim’s voice dropped to a cold and deadly level. “Then make room.”_

_One of the doctors showed her a tricorder reading that made her frown, and she looked at him with concern. “Sweetie, why don’t we go get checked out by a doctor. I’ll make sure your friends are safe.”_

_“They aren’t my friends. They’re my kids, and I will not leave them.”_

_“Honey, you really should come with us. You need medical attention,” she touched his arm. He jerked back from her touch as if her touched burned._

_Kevin screamed. Jim turned around to see Kevin being picked up by one of the security team members. The other teens had been sedated already by the doctors, being loaded onto stretchers. A doctor tried to give him a hypo while he was distracted._

_No longer did Jim see Starfleet officers in front of him. The screaming, his kids’ unconscious forms, something in him snapped. Maybe he had finally lost it, maybe it was another hunger hallucination, but all he could see were Kodos’ men and his kids in trouble._

_He took the hypo from the doctor’s hand, stabbing him with it, knocking him out with the contents. Another guard tried to restrain him, but Jim drew the knife from his sleeve, stabbing him in the chest. “Jim!”_

_Kevin’s scream made him barrel through the next two guards. He could only see Kevin reaching for him, fighting his captor with desperation marring his face. He fought harder, slitting the wrist of another guard who grabbed him. He saw another grab a phaser to shoot at him, but the woman from before yelled, “Don’t shoot! It could kill him.” Jim had fewer reservations. He shot the guard’s hand with his hidden phaser, searing a hole through the skin. He turned and round house kicked another to the head, making the man stumble back, and following through with his knife. All this was down with cold, clinical efficiency as Jim ran after Kevin._

_“Jim! Jim!” The teen was almost there. Just half a meter. His fingers brushed Kevin’s ready to pull him out of the man’s grip when he felt the familiar sting from a phaser. His head swam and his body collapsed, but he refused to lose consciousness. Kevin grabbed the doorframe, still kicking and screaming for him. Jim couldn’t lose another one. He couldn’t take it._

_He forced himself onto his feet until he was shot down again, this time losing consciousness with Kevin’s screams ringing in his ears._

* * *

“All good things have to come to an end,” Jim thought, adjusting his shirt yet again.  The next few days were going to be hectic, filing report after report, and he wasn’t looking forward to the meeting with the admiral.

Glancing over at Spock, he resisted asking if he was okay. The admirals probably wouldn’t notice, but Spock’s limp, the slight slouch in his posture, his still too pale skin, and his stiff movements were engrained in Jim’s mind as a constant presence.

Spock met his gaze and addressed what was on Jim’s mind for the fourth time that morning. “I am adequate Jim.”

“Positive? Because I’m sure McCoy would love to get you off duty.” And maybe they shouldn’t have slept together the night before with Spock still injured.

“I would prefer to be at attendance to the meeting with the admirals. They have proved to be biased when reviewing your mission reports.”

It was a lost cause to make Spock rest. Jim knew that, and if he kept pushing, Spock would just counter by saying Jim should be on bed rest too. The only reason they weren’t forced to was because McCoy had been holed up in the research labs working on his own cure while he was officially off duty.  For a brief moment, Jim sympathized with Bones.

He entered the conference room, taking his seat in front of the monitor, waiting for it to start. He felt Spock take his position behind him to his right. Jim sighed, rubbing his temples. “Spock, you’re not standing on your newly healed leg for this entire meeting.”

“I prefer to stand.”

Out of sight of the admiralty, the captain mentally tacked on to the end of Spock’s statement. True, anyone sitting at the table would be visible by the admiral, and where Spock was standing he would stay out of sight. Normally, the extra support would be welcomed, but he refused to allow Spock to push himself. “You’re not even on duty. Take a seat.”

“Neither are you if I recall, Captain.” As Jim predicted, Spock brought it up the moment Jim did. It seriously made Jim consider giving Bones a break when the older man told him to take it easy.

“Take a seat, Spock. I will pull rank on you.”

Spock lips thinned, showing his displeasure but did take a seat, much to Kirk’s pleasure. It would be another week of treatment before the worst of Spock’s injuries were adequately healed, and he was going to make damn sure Spock allowed time to let them. He glanced at Spock’s hands again, feeling guilt but knowing better than to voice them aloud.

“Captain, Admiral Barnett is hailing. Should I patch him through?” Lieutenant Redd called through the comm.

“Yeah,” Jim replied, resisting the urge to rub his eyes again. Well Barnett wasn’t the worst admiral they could have put in charge of this meeting. While the young captain hadn’t left a good impression on him with the Kobayashi Maru incident, the admiral had been accepting of his promotion though he was much stricter with him than with other captains, not that Jim blamed him. He knew exactly how he came off to people. He worked hard for that image and for it to come naturally to him.

The admiral’s face appeared on the monitor. The man looked tired but was still well groomed and would pass inspection if subjugated to it. “Captain Kirk,” he greeted. “You look like hell.”

“Feel like it, sir,” he responded easily.

The man gave a soft amused smile before turning his attention to Spock. “Commander Spock. I am surprised to see you out of sickbay. I caught a glimpse of your medical report.”

“Admiral Barnett,” Spock greeted but offered nothing else to the conversation, choosing to sit silently.

“If you don’t mind, Admiral, I’d like to give you the report quickly and conclude this meeting. There’s a lot to be done.”

“I’m sure. The admiralty has quite a few questions.”

Jim gave him the story, starting from being shot down in the shuttle to waking up in sickbay. He told Barnett about the aliens and their motives and of the colonists’ hostile behavior and of what he was forced to do, but left out Spock killing said alien at the end. Thankfully, the admiral didn’t interrupt the story, allowing Jim’s quick and precise explanation of events.

“After the ship began falling apart, the _USS_ _Remembrance_ caught our life signatures after the shielding disabled and beamed us aboard before we died. The rest you already know from their report.”

The admiral was frowning, looking at Spock with sympathy behind his eyes. “You were tortured, Commander?”

“The captain speaks with emotionalism as he suggests that the unknown alien life forms were intentionally causing harm to extract information or pain. Experimented on would be more accurate, Admiral.”

Jim threw Spock a glare. Only Spock would casually say he was experimented on as if it were no big deal.

“Holding and imprisoning any sentient being is a crime, especially with an endangered species.”

The captain’s hand gripped tightly around the stylus he was holding at the reminder. He still remembered Spock making his captain’s log that day announcing it aloud as the implications of what he was saying began to stick. _I am now a part of an endangered species._ He had almost lost Spock to the New Vulcan project, and would have if the Vulcan’s elder counterpart did not persuade him otherwise. He wished Nero was alive just so he could throw him into the black hole again and again. He swore Spock was thinking something similar though the Vulcan was concealing his emotions when he deflected back to the topic at hand.

“As we have killed these life forms and ultimately caused their extinction, we are willing to accept responsibility,” the Vulcan answered stiffly.

“No need, Commander. It was obviously self defense.” Barnett seemed to give Spock a critical look over as if trying to assess the damage from light years away. “You are however off duty until further notice.” He looked back at Kirk. “And light duty for you, Kirk. I want you to head for Earth for a month of shore leave. Mandatory,” he added when Kirk opened his mouth to protest. “I also want you both to have your psych evals done within the next 24 hours, and I would like it if you both were to rest rather than running the ship after two weeks of no sleep.”

Jim silently cursed McCoy for telling the admiral that neither of them had slept much the past two weeks. Damn traitor probably listed off every medical issue, patient confidentiality thrown out the window. “Not likely, sir. I have families to write and about 200 pages of Scotty’s report to read through including repair reports, and I’m sure half of the repairs and upgrades probably not okayed by Starfleet.”

Barnett chuckled. “Your command staff is one hell of an eccentric group. It’s amazing you stay functional.”

“We aren’t that bad,” he defended before he could stop himself.

Barnett raised an eyebrow. Could everyone do the eyebrow lift thing but Jim? “Your chief medical officer has a fear of space and technology, your chief engineer is not only possessive of your ship but keeps trying to make unapproved upgrades, your co-navigator and weapons officer is a 19 year-old genius who thinks everything was made in Russia, you logical and very Vulcan XO and science officer somehow manages to follow your illogical shenanigans, and you manage to keep them all in check and somehow out logic and out stubborn all of them.”

Putting it that way actually did manage to bring a smile to Jim’s face. He did love his crew, his family. “Genius’ do tend to be eccentric, sir. Just proves that I have the best of the best working under me.”

“And you’ll have one more joining you.”

That statement alone was enough to wipe the smile of Jim’s face. “I do not understand, sir.”

Barnett looked amused at the apparent displeasure wafting off Kirk. “A cadet will be transferring to your ship. He will be arriving with Admiral Komack in 26 hours.”

“I did not approve of any transfers,” he barely held himself back to keep from snapping. He did not like that the admiral had gone over his head. So much so that it took him a moment to register that Komack was arriving as well. “Komack is coming,” he asked darkly.

“Yes,” the admiral said in a way that dared Kirk to argue with him. “And Kirk, try not to kill him.” The connection cut with that parting message. Fuck whatever he thought about Barnett before, Jim hated that man now.

The comm beeped and Jim smashed the button with more force than necessary. “What?!” he snapped.

The lieutenant on the other line hesitated at the sharp answer, long enough that Jim thought he had closed the connection. “Lieutenant Uhura and a young boy have been picked up by the _USS Remembrance_. They are being transported to the _Enterprise_ now.”

Jim was up and out of his seat heading to the transport room before the sentence even finished, leaving Spock to confirm that the message was heard and play catch up to the eager captain.

As they entered the turbolift McCoy managed to slip inside and stab Jim’s neck with a hypo, earning himself a long string of Klingon curses from the captain and a murderous glare. “I thought you were off duty.”

“I’m the only one willing to track you down when you don’t show up for your appointments,” McCoy growled, turning to Spock. “And you’re no better.”

Spock merely ticked an eyebrow at McCoy and raised his right sleeve so McCoy could administer a hypo. The doctor bypassed the arm and went straight for the neck, earning himself an actual glare from the Vulcan.

“You’re just the only one brave enough to assault your captain in public,” Jim grumbled, rubbing his sore neck.

“Stop your whining. If you came to medbay like you’re supposed to, I wouldn’t have to be your goddamn sitter. It’s been like this since the academy.” At Jim’s sheepish grin, the doctor’s scowl grew. “I also came to find you because you and Spock need to talk.”

Though used to his friend’s mother henning and interference, Jim had a hard time resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “We already talked everything out.”

“Not likely. Seriously, there is something important Spock needs to tell you,” McCoy glared at the Vulcan, “and you aren’t getting out of it this time.”

It would have been simple to tell Bones to shut up and that everything was okay between them, but of course, Jim decided to embarrass both of them.  With a pervy smile Bones recognized all too well, he looked at Spock. “Nah, I think Spock did everything he needed to _do_ last night. He definitely _came_ with one thought in mind.” The blushes on his friends’ faces were completely worth whatever punishment Bones managed to come up with during his next physical. He didn’t however expect to be assaulted with another hypo so quickly. “Really?!”

“After everything you two put me through, it was way too damn easy to put you two together. And the hypo was for not being able to keep your pants on for a week. You both almost died less than four days ago! No physical activities!”

“Yeah, yeah,” the captain grumbled. He seriously thought he bruised with that last one.

Thankfully, the turbolift’s doors opened, and it was a short walk way to the transporter room. Luca was being placed on a stretcher as Uhura watched. “What happened?” he asked, going to Luca’s side.

“He didn’t want to leave you behind so he was sedated,” she answered, looking up at Jim and Spock. Her eyes narrowed when she caught glimpse of Spock’s hands.  “I managed to convince the other ship to allow Luca to be transported onto the _Enterprise_.”

He had McCoy verify he was okay and really just unconscious, before allowing them to cart the boy off to sickbay. He would be unconscious for a while with the strong dosage. He turned to Uhura, his stormy expression softening, “Are you okay?”

“Yes captain, sorry it took so long to return,” she saluted.

“What happened?”

“When Starfleet started beaming down, there were colonists who put up a fight. They didn’t believe they were here to rescue them. We had to escape the area to avoid being caught in the crossfire. Once I learned however that it was Starfleet, I returned to meet up with them. Luca was more reluctant,” she hesitated, uncertain if she should say more about Luca’s behavior.

He just waved her off. “Go to sickbay and get looked over. You’re off duty until further notice.”

She looked unsure if being taken off duty was a good thing, but thanked him anyway as she shuffled out of the room.

“I’ll go make sure my underling takes care of them,” McCoy patted him on the shoulder.

“Hold on Bones, I’ll go with you.” He followed his friend down to sickbay, hoping that both were as alright as they seemed.

* * *

_When Jim awoke, he was restrained to a biobed in medbay. He heard people coming and going, heard doctors talking in hushed voices around him. He pretended to remain unconscious, going over the events in his head. He felt groggy. He was probably administered sedatives to keep him asleep. He admitted to himself he overreacted. No, he acted on instinct. The moment his children were in danger, he acted to protect them, but they weren’t in danger. Logically, he knew they were knocked out because they were in pain. They all were. They had just grown so used to it, walking on fractured bones, ignoring phaser and knife wounds, hunger being a constant companion. Given the situation, the doctors had probably figured out by this point that they wouldn’t have willing subjected themselves to be put under, and they weren’t old enough to give medical consent to anything. Still, Jim did not feel the situation was handled well._

_Unfortunately, he couldn’t feign sleep for long. His brainwaves gave him away after a short while. The woman from before took a seat at his bedside a few hours later. She was a pretty young woman. Dirty blonde hair, pulled back into a sever bun, glasses on the tip of her nose that gave her a librarian look, and a petite frame. She smiled at him sweetly. “Would you like something to eat?”_

_“No,” Jim said tonelessly. He just stared at the ceiling. He had already tested his restraints, not that it mattered. There was nowhere to run and no reason to try. “Where are my kids?”_

_“Randy, Kevin, Isis, and Ester are on their way to their respective guardians and families. Zander, Patty, and Tai are in the sickbay on another ship. Your wounds were quite severe, so you stayed here.”_

_It made sense, Jim thought. The teens were the ones who fought and protected so they needed medical attention. The younger children tended to stay behind, and Jim did his best to keep them out of the fray._

_“It’s amazing you’re alive,” she said softly. “The amount of injuries you had was almost three times the amount of the others. Do you want to talk about it?”_

_Jim remained tight lipped, staring at the grey ceiling. It had been a long time since he stayed in an actual man-made enclosure._

_“You almost killed two of the guards you attacked. Did you know that?”_

_“If I wanted them dead, they would be,” Jim stated so matter of factly it disturbed the woman, making her shift uncomfortably. “How long were we down there?”_

_“Three months.”_

_Only three months? It had felt like a lifetime. So much death in such a short time._

_“All of them asked for you when they woke. You must be really important to them.”_

_Jim continued to say nothing. All of his kids were safe and going home to their families. His usefulness had ended. He accomplished his goal in safeguarding the ones who remained. So where would he go?_

_“You mother is on her way to collect you. She should be here in a day or so.” When Jim didn’t show any reaction, she added, “Isn’t that great?”_

_Could Jim actually go back to normal life after this? Somehow he didn’t think so._

_“Is there anything you’d like to eat?” She tried again._

_“I want to go back to the surface. I need to do something.”_

_The woman went on about how great of an idea it was. How getting closure would do wonders for him. She was an idiot. He didn’t care about closure or anything of the sort, but he did leave his things behind, having been focused on other things at the time_.

_According to the woman, Jim didn’t bother listening to or remembering her name, he had been kept unconscious and restrained for five days to protect himself and others. He apparently had violent nightmares and had almost harmed himself in his sleep, and of course they hadn’t trusted him to not attack if he was awake. Going to the surface, he was accompanied by three guards, all extremely wary of him. He paid them little mind. He went to their last hide out and checked the bag he had accidentally left. Maggie’s doll was still inside as well as a few other trinkets, including Joanna’s locket._

_Getting what he came for, he beamed back aboard. He had been gone for less than ten minutes which caused the woman in charge of him to again scrunch her face in confusion. She probably expected him to cry and spend a bit more time on the surface or something._

_“Jim!” Another woman, came out of nowhere, enveloping him into a tight hug. She looked familiar, she had golden locks with a few strands of grey, sun kissed skin, and had an earthy scent, reminiscent of the farm he had grown up on. Oh, so that’s who she was. “Jim,” she sobbed, holding him tightly as if he’d disappear the moment she let go._

_He just let her hold him, waiting until his mother finished crying. She kept mumbling apologies and talked about how she rushed to get there to pick him up. She kept touching his shoulders and face and all Jim could think was, he did not know this woman. “I’m ready to go.”_

_“Of course,” his mother replied, wiping her tears._

_The next thing Jim knew, he was on a shuttle, heading to Earth, leaving Tarsus far behind._

* * *

Luca was okay. He had some fractures and bruising and of course was seriously malnutritioned and dehydrated, but he would survive. It was more of the mental scars they were worried about. The lieutenant just had some bruising and was also a bit undernourished. While they were there, Dr. M’Benga came to administer the psych test to Jim and Uhura claiming that Spock took his before he left sickbay and McCoy after the surgery. The ship psychologist, Dr. Lieb, then came to set up appointments with them. Uhura opted for now, while Jim claimed he had important captianly things to do and put it off as long as he could, which was two days.

Tired and exasperated, the captain wandered to Spock’s quarters letting himself in. Spock looked up at the intrusion, raising an eyebrow at him. Jim only partially paid attention as he made himself comfortably at Spock’s desk, clean from paperwork as always. It was perfect for propping his feet up on the desk without worrying about spilling PADDs all over the floor. While the room was warm, it wasn’t stifling as it always was when Jim came over unexpectedly. It was warm enough to make him slightly uncomfortable, but not drenched in sweat. Spock had lowered the heat recently.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked as Spock placed a cup of coffee in front of him.

“It is noticeable as I have yet to correct my shielding,” Spock admitted. It was then Jim noticed Spock wearing the hand knitted sweater Amanda had made him. Spock rarely wore it. Jim had only seen it a handful of times, usually when a mission had gone seriously downhill for them. He guessed even a Vulcan had some equivalent to a safety blanket. As far as Jim knew, the sweaters were some of the very few things Spock had left of his mother. That and a single picture Spock kept framed on his bookshelf behind his desk.

“Computer, raise temperature by 4 degrees.”

 _“Raising temperature to 32 degrees Celsius,”_ the computer responded in a monotone female voice.

“That was unnecessary.” If Spock could sigh, Jim thought he would have. “And if it would not trouble you, I would suggest removing your feet off my desk.”

A smile inched its way on Jim’s face at the underlying annoyance in Spock’s voice. “Thanks Spock, it would trouble me. You are so considerate,” he had a hard time not laughing at Spock when annoyance flashed across the Vulcan’s eyes.

“You are being deliberately obtuse.”

“You said if it would not trouble me,” he laughed. “You should know by now that any loophole I find, I’m going to take.”

Spock apparently had enough of his behavior and went back to the chess set the human had failed to notice entering. His laughter stopped and his body drooped. “Am I really that predictable?”

Spock paused in his set up of the board. “When you are stressed you have the habit of bothering Doctor McCoy, playing chess, or seeking sexual gratification. As Doctor McCoy is currently working in the medical labs─”

“The other two options would lead to you,” the captain finished for him with a smile.

“I would not say you are predictable as I have yet to figure out your chess strategy or your normal behavior,” Spock carefully moved the chess set to his desk. “For example, the urge to randomly let yourself into my quarters when you see fit.”

The captain shrugged, removing his feet. “Random inspections?”

“As you phrased it as a suggestion and it is only my and the doctor’s quarters you randomly enter, I will assume that is neither the real reason nor do you have a real answer.”

Jim laughed again, making the first move. “You’re just upset that I beat you at chess.”

Spock smiled a little before he made his move. “I believe you made the same accusation when you beat my test.”

“Just admit it, Spock. You have a huge competitive streak and hate losing.”

Spock tilted his head as if conceding to his statement. “A remnant of my childhood most likely.”

Jim recalled the time when Spock mentioned his childhood, how he had been bullied by his classmates and elders for being a hybrid.  “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. No wonder all the captains want you as their first officer. They practically drool over your resume.” He took his time making his next move. “You could probably get your own ship if you wanted it.”

“I have been offered twice, as well been requested by three separate captains.” Spock took a sip of his tea.

Jim jerked his head up. He hadn’t been told that before.

“I declined. As I have stated before, I have no desire for the captain’s seat as I much prefer my scientific duties. As for the offers for a transfer, I also have no desire to switch from the _Enterprise_. I have lost my family once. I am not eager to give up another so easily.”

Jim smiled softly. “Even Bones?”

“While I find the doctor loud, exuberant, slightly xenophobic, and his medical knowledge questionable, I believe he is the equivalent to what you humans refer to as the crazy uncle.” There was mirth in Spock’s eyes as he added, “Or the eccentric mother-in-law.”

That did earn a hearty laugh from Jim, doubled over in his jovial laugh and almost knocking the board over. “Oh man, I got to tell Bones. It’s too true.”

It took a good two minutes for him to work the giggles out of his system. In that time Spock made his own move and waited for Kirk to get a hold of himself. “I guess Bones does overprotect me sometimes. Winona, while she loves me, I could never think of her as a mom.” His face sobered as he talked. “I guess I never gave her the chance. After Tarsus, she realized her mistakes and tried hard to reconnect, but for me, it was just too late. Sam was gone, and I’d seen hell, and my kids…they were taken from me. It hurt so damn much, like my purpose and usefulness was just stripped away. I couldn’t understand how she could leave us so willingly for space. I raised myself by that point, and I didn’t see a reason for her to interfere.” His smile took on a bitter edge. “I’m sure she thinks I hate her. I haven’t contacted her since I left home.”

“Do you?”

Jim shook his head tiredly. “I don’t know her enough to hate her.”

Spock waited patiently for Jim to make his move and readily made his when he was able. “It is not too late.”

“No, but right now, I’m just not ready to forgive her.”

“Understandable.”

They played in silence for a while. Silence was something Jim used to hate, but he didn’t mind so much here, just listening to the soft clicks of the board was enough to settle his overactive mind. The ability to stop thinking had always been difficult thing for him to do. To focus on one task at hand was a blessing and chess helped with it. With a long gulp of his now lukewarm replicated coffee, he slid down into his chair. “Am I selfish for not wanting to help with the rescue effort?”

“Yes,” Spock replied instantly, eying the board for a second. “However, everyone is entitled to selfish decisions occasionally.”

Jim hummed, “How often is that, ‘cause I’m pretty sure I used up at least three lifetimes by now.”

“If you wish, you can relay the orders to me, and I will follow them through.”

Jim tapped his finger on the table, a sign he was tempted but not likely to take the offer. “I don’t think I can ask that from you. It’d look irresponsible of me, shoving my injured first officer back into duty when I’m capable. Not that you aren’t going behind my back doing my paperwork already.” He shot Spock a disapproving look which the Vulcan pointedly ignored.

“As I am relieved of all my duties, I can spend my time as I prefer to spend it.”

“Doing my paperwork.”

Spock’s lips thinned, and Jim swore the Vulcan was sulking. “There is very little to occupy my time as Doctor McCoy and Doctor M’Benga have put their medical overrides on all my science equipment and files.”

“So the only thing you had access to is my terminal and my work. I said this before and I’ll say it again, Spock, you need a hobby.”

“I have a hobby; unfortunately, I am unable to indulge at this time.”

“Why not?”

Spock glanced over to his left. Jim followed his gaze and it landed on a Vulcan lyre, presented on its stand in a corner, ready to play whenever Spock saw fit. If Spock could ever play again, that was. Spock was good. Occasionally, Spock would play in the rec room and several crew members would listen to him play. A few even joined him on their own instruments, and if Uhura was free, she would make up songs about the people in the room and sing and dance. Jim had only listened to him play twice. It never occurred to him that there might be a time he would never get a chance to again.

Spock flexed the fingers in his right hand, only two of them moving. The two that moved caused the Vulcan pain, still oversensitive to every move. “Perhaps we can accomplish the task together?”

Forcing his eyes away from the bandaged, Jim had to backtrack in their conversation to figure out what Spock was referring to and recalled the offer to help with the rescues. Smiling softly, he brushed his fingers over Spock’s, enjoying the soft flush on Spock’s cheeks from the action.  “I’d like that.”

* * *

_Jim woke up screaming. Another dream about Tarsus. A combination of Jabari’s death and him killing his kids in order to preserve the others. This had been going on since his return home; normally he could keep from yelling though. As he gained awareness of his surroundings, he realized he had his mother pinned to the ground with a knife to her neck. This was the third time in the two months he had been home. This nightmare must have been particularly bad if he had been screaming and had not woken up when someone entered his domain._

_With a mumbled apology, he let her go, hiding the knife back on his person. He had a phaser underneath his pillow, not that Winona had to know about it. He watched distantly as she rubbed her throat. He’d give it to the woman for not freaking out, though she was a bit frightened. He could see it in her eyes._

_“Do you want to talk about it?” She tried._

_As usual, his answer was no. Before she could say anything else, he grabbed a bag and escaped out the second story window before she could stop him. He slept fully dressed because of nights like these. He rarely slept. He had gone so long without it that he felt tired if he slept more than 3 hours in two days._

_His psychiatrist said his nightmares were because of guilt and that he was suffering depression. He was given pills to take for it. Jim flushed them all down the toilet and stopped going to his sessions after the second one. No, Jim wouldn’t sleep because it was habit. He didn’t fear the nightmares. He needed the reminders of what he had done. He didn’t deserve to forget. He didn’t feel guilty about the things he did because they would have all died if he hadn’t. He felt bad for the things he wasn’t able to do, like keep all of them alive. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t eat, he just stole the food he wanted or hunted it himself as he was unable to take the sweetness of processed food or get used to replicated food. He had a stash of hidden food in several locations._

_Despite this, he could not adjust to normal life again. He still could not get rid of the hollow feeling within himself. He could not bring himself to feel again. He could not bring himself to look at people past their potential to be rapists or murderers. He could not walk into a room without cataloging exits and weapons._

_Reaching his destination, he entered an old barn that had been abandoned for the past 40 years. He had a little set up. He had a hay bed, a handmade bow, and a few blankets in one corner and a stone Jim could warm with his phaser next to it. He was comfortable here. It was familiar. He placed his bag down and picked up his bow instead. Right now he just needed to hunt._

* * *

When Spock returned to his room after discussing the necessities and recommendations regarding the colonists with the captains of the three Starfleet vessels aiding in the rescue, he returned to find Kirk sitting and staring at the computer with smile of dark amusement on his face.  The Vulcan didn’t ask why that was, knowing Jim would speak when he was ready.

“The psychologist thinks I’m a psychopath,” he finally said with dry amusement.

Spock quirked an eyebrow. “You should cease hacking into databases and files. The frequency in which you indulge your habit to gain information without going through the proper channels is alarmingly high.” Nevertheless, Spock moved behind Jim to see the file he was looking it. It was not the psychologist’s notes like Spock was expecting, but Luca’s file. “How did he reach this conclusion?”

“My psych eval was exactly the same as before I entered the academy.”

“I do not understand why that warrants concern,” Spock said slowly.

“I just went through a traumatic experience, lost my crew members, and killed several colonists. It shouldn’t be the same.”

“Meaning it looks like the events did not affect you rather than never fully getting over the previous experience since you deleted your files.”

Kirk rested his chin on his hand, staring at the screen. “I know how to pretend that I’m okay. Of course I’m not, but I know how to trick the system. I forgot that in this case, it’ll backfire.”

Spock sat on the edge of his desk, earning him a surprised glance from the human. “And the reason for hacking into Luca’s file?”

“I wanted to know who he was going to end up with.” Scrolling down, he landed on the relatives section of the file. “I killed his only living relative who would be willing to take him. His mom was an orphan and his dad married his mom against his parents’ wishes and was disowned, so they want nothing to do with Luca.”

“We can’t keep him here, Jim.”

Jim closed out of the file and quickly erased his tracks. He wouldn’t look at Spock when he said, “I know.  Maybe on a normal starship, but not an exploratory vessel like the _Enterprise_. I just wish there was something I could do.”

There was nothing Spock could offer to make the situation better. Luca would have to eventually leave. Both he and Jim had understood that the moment they started taking care of him. “When will they come to retrieve him?”

“Two days. They plan to keep him under until tomorrow morning. It might be the only sleep he’ll be able to get for a while. The nightmares will be pretty bad the first month or so.” Jim breathed in deeply. “How was the talk with your dad?”

Spock got off the desk, showing his discomfort about the topic by the way he stood at attention and his hands behind his back. “He will meet me at the embassy with a healer upon our return. He requested I stay with him during the duration of the treatment.”

With a grimace, Jim asked, “I don’t need to be there do I?”

“My father would like to speak to you as well if you have a free moment, though he is aware that you may not have time.”

The human nibbled on his lip in obvious worry.

“If you are afraid that my father is angry with you for the comments that emotionally compromised me, there is no need. He is aware that your only motive was to take control of the _Enterprise_ and stop the _Narada._ And he is also aware of the change in the status of our relationship.”

Briefly, Jim wondered when Spock had time to tell Sarek of all this. Spock had either been meditating, doing paperwork, or helping around the _Enterprise,_ all against Dr. McCoy and M’Benga’s orders of course, and too busy to have had any conversation at length with anyone except maybe Jim since he seemed to refuse to go back to his room except to sleep. Even then Spock would come into the captain’s quarters later that night, anticipating the captain’s nightmares and sleeping beside him.

“Spock, your father and grandmother scare the shit out of me. Nothing you say will ever change that.”

“I do not understand why.”

“They’re your family, of course you don’t. And you have never been on the receiving end of a Vulcan’s wrath like I have. They have about twenty different reasons why they could kill me and hide my body and they could make it sound like it was necessary and logical thing to do.”

“I will never understand why you humans feel the need to greatly exaggerate.”

Jim huffed, wishing he could bother Bones for a drink. “I’m not exaggerating, and I’m not the only one who thinks they’re scary as hell either. The admirals nearly shit themselves anytime they hear T’Pau wants to speak with them and bend over backwards to please your dad anytime he comes to Earth ‘cause if he wanted to, he could somehow manage to convince the Federation Council to serve under New Vulcan and not realize what they did until several years later, and that’s with just staring them down. God forbid if he ever used words to do it.”

Spock was laughing with his eyes, but still said in his normal even voice, “You greatly overestimate my father’s diplomatic skills.”

“I think you grossly underestimate it.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Spock’s lips. “Perhaps.”

The comm beeped, “Jim, get down to sick bay now,” McCoy shouted over the speaker before a loud crash came over the other end.

Frowning, he pushed the button for the comm. “On my way.”

Jim walked to sickbay in record time, frowning at the disarray the room was in. The tray of medical supplies was overturned, spilling rubbing alcohol and equipment all over the floor. A set of sheets thrown about and stained with blood, and Luca was missing from his bed.

He sealed the door with his captain override code and immediately searched for the source of the blood. A nurse was clutching his arm to stop the flow of blood as another tried to find a working dermal regenerator.

“He’s awake,” Jim said, already piecing together what happened.

The male nurse who had been attacked nodded. “I know you said women only unless it was Dr. McCoy, but he was supposed to be asleep and the others were busy, so I tried to give him his hypo. He completely flipped when he saw me. I don’t know how long he’d been awake, but he managed to get a hold of a scalpel and attacked me with it. He’s been hiding in the isolation ward since.”

Jim nodded, heading to the room just as McCoy started giving the nurse a long winded lecture as he treated the wound. In the isolation room, he closed and locked the door just in case. “Luca?”

Jim listened carefully for movement. After calling out, a soft ruffle came from under the biobed. “Luca, it’s Jim. It’s okay to come out.”

A few seconds passed before a soft, muffled voice spoke up. “Jim?” The fabric covering the edge of the bed lifted up, and the small form of Luca, clutching the scalpel like his lifeline, slowly revealed himself. “Jim?” he said louder.

The man squatted at the end of the bed, so Luca could get a clear view of his face. “Yeah, it’s me.”

Luca darted out from the small space, throwing himself into Jim’s arms with enough force to knock the adult over onto his behind, refusing to catch himself in favor of hugging the boy back. The child cried in his arms, soaking his command shirt with tears. “I thought you left me. I didn’t know if I’d see you again. I tried to be brave, but then Mr. Spock got hurt. I tried to look for you and, and-“ Jim could barely understand between all the sobs and hiccups, but he rubbed soothing circles on the child’s back.

“I know. You did a good job. Mr. Spock is okay thanks to you. I couldn’t have done any better.” Carefully, he stood, carrying the boy in his arms.

Luca continued to cry, refusing to let go of Jim again. He would get permission to take Luca to his room to sleep there. There was no chance the boy was going to trust anyone in sickbay or get any real rest while he was here. It was going to be hard letting Luca go. He didn’t want to, but he would have to whether he was ready for it or not.

* * *

_He returned home after his hunt. He could smell breakfast being cooked from the outside. It made both his mouth water and his stomach churn simultaneously. He supposed his mom couldn’t go back to sleep after having a knife to her throat. The sun was just coming up, so it was still early._

_Out of habit, Jim slipped into the house silently. Even with the aged farmhouse, he managed to avoid every creek as he traveled from room to room, minding his business. He stopped outside the kitchen when he heard his name._

_“I don’t know what to do. He won’t let me help him. I think I’m making it worse instead of better… Of course I tried. He refuses to go anymore. I drop him off and wait outside, and he sneaks out the back door…I don’t know. He won’t talk, he goes out at night doing god knows what…You don’t think I tried to follow him? He just evaded me. I’m at my wits end….I know it’s my fault.”_

_She turned around and was startled at the sudden presence of her son, dropping her phone. “Jim, you scared me.”_

_He stared at her blankly. Without a word, he strode out of the kitchen to his room to pick up his phaser. He didn’t plan to go to school that day. He rarely went to school, only appearing to take exams and keep from failing. He managed a C average going to school just doing that. They tried to stop him from leaving of course and tried to track him down, but getting passed them was child’s play._

_He spent his time during the day hanging out at the old bar twenty miles out in the middle of nowhere. The owner didn’t question his age since Jim never drank. Jim just sit and watch people, occasionally ordering coffee or getting lunch. Jim would even help the owner maintain the place from time or time just so he could continue doing nothing with his life._

_That day however, a young woman came in a bit early for happy hour, wearing skin tight clothing that would make most drool. She approached him with a sexy smile, leaning over slightly to show off her breasts. “Hey there handsome. Mind if I buy you a drink?”_

_Looking her over, Jim thought she would do. He had been told he looked older. It was his eyes. They had aged so much over three months. Very few thought he was a 15 year old boy, and hanging out at a bar all the time probably hadn’t helped. At this point, he just wanted to feel even if it was superficial. He cracked a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, but she either didn’t notice or care, and he agreed to her offer._

* * *

It was the middle of the night when Komack beamed aboard. Jim had been imagining the different ways he could beat the shit out of Komack and find a reason to not get court martialed in the process. After rereading his orders and seeing Komack’s signature on the bottom, he couldn’t help but believe that the admiral sent him on purpose.  His fists clenched behind his back twice when he saw the admiral materialize. He didn’t even pay attention to the other man who accompanied him, still wearing his academy reds.

“Sir,” the captain greeted through gritted teeth. He didn’t bother to salute in fear of doing something he would regret. His anger was only calmed slightly, when he saw the black eye the admiral sported and the bruise on his jaw. It appeared someone had gotten to the admiral first.

“Kirk. I assume Barnett told you why I’m here.” Komack stood with his shoulders squared and back straight, a perfect picture of a seasoned officer, radiating an air of authority, but Kirk had always been less than impressed with him.

“No, sir. He only said that you would be coming aboard with a new recruit,” Jim glanced at the cadet standing behind Komack.

The two stood in an awkward silence, neither saying anything, sizing each other up. Komack was the first to falter, slouching in his posture and bowing his head. “I owe you an apology, Captain. I failed to relay all of the information to you, blinded by my personal feelings towards you. It was unprofessional of me. I never imagined it would lead to such a clusterfuck. For that I am sorry.”

“Sorry, doesn’t help the families I have to write to…sir.” Kirk replied darkly, making sure the tacked on sir on the end sounded more of an insult than a sign of respect. “And if you’re here to take command from me, I will request someone else from HQ.”

“I am only here to observe and lend a hand where it’s needed. I hear you have a large amount of paperwork you rather not be doing as usual.”

Pushing all of his paperwork onto an admiral was tempting, but Jim ran his ship a certain way and he did not want this pencil pusher to have access to any document that could interfere with the retelling of events or authorization of certain repairs. “Spock, prepare an office for the admiral and a list of things still needed to be done.”

Spock step forward from behind the transporter controls and greeted the admiral with a bow of his head. “If you would follow me, Admiral?”

Jim waited for Komack to be out of the room before addressing the cadet. “A yeoman will arrive to show you to your quarters.”

Jim turned to leave, not really wanting to deal with anyone else that day when a familiar Irish accent stopped him. “That’s mighty cold of you, big bro, leaving a lad like me here to wait around on this big ship.”

Jim slowly turned, taking a closer look at the cadet. The cadet had removed his cap, revealing his dirty blonde hair and boyish face. He held a mischievous look in his eyes as he regarded his captain. “Don’t tell me you forgot? I told ya I’d be coming to serve under you in my last letter.”

A slow, wide grin spread on the captain’s face. “Kevin?”

“Aye, that’s me. Ensign Riley at your service, Captain Jim,” he mocked bowed, also smiling from ear to ear. “Though I must say, sir, you look like hell.”

“Kevin!” Jim laughed.

“Glad I can put a smile on that face. I hope you like what I’ve done to that dick’s face.”

Widening his eyes in disbelief, he asked, “That was you?”

Kevin’s grin only got brighter. “Why don’t we catch up a bit before you assign me to some lowly ensign duties, yeah?”

Jim brought Kevin to the observation deck. It was clear of people at this time of night and had a beautiful view of the stars. They sat observing each other after their long separation. Kevin had grown obviously. His eyes were brighter, and his smile easy and calm. He was a healthy weight now with a healthy color to his skin. Jim could still see the past in the depths of his eyes, the part that showed that Kevin was still a survivor, but he was adjusted and happy.

“Barnett told me the situation. He thought maybe you could use someone around who could understand. Of course, I made sure to pay Komack back first. He seemed to know he was wrong though. He didn’t go to medbay to fix it up afterwards.”

It was hard to hold back a smile, but Jim still tried to reprimand him. “That was reckless, Kev, you could have been court martialed.”

“Come on, Jim. I’m a grown man now. I can take care of myself.” Kevin’s eyes locked onto and analyzed every injury Jim had that were visible, eyes losing more and more cheerfulness with each one. “I never did properly thank you for everything you did back then.”

He dismissed the gratitude with a shake of his head. “It was nothing.”

“It was everything,” the cadet insisted, leaning forward in his seat. “I didn’t understand back then how much you did. It wasn’t until I was eleven when it occurred to me that all those men I wounded probably died, and I was fifteen when I realized all those times you disappeared after we got into a scuffle was because you were finishing them off, so I wouldn’t be the one that killed them.” Kevin gave him an incredulous look. “The things you did by yourself to keep our nightmares at bay, how did you manage?”

Tiredly, Jim ran a hand over his face. “I’m not a saint, Kev. I had thoughts of abandoning you guys. I even left once.”

“But you always came back. Even then.”

“Yeah… I guess I did,” the captain smiled softly.

“I brought something for you.” Kevin placed a hologram device on the table between them and a stack of letters. He activated the hologram and it looped between many photos. Photos of graduations, marriages, and families. All the faces were familiar. All his kids were grown up, happy with their own kids and lives. “I got in contact with them all with the help of Barnett. Hearing what you just went through, they wanted to give you the same hope you gave them. They all wrote you a letter. We all know how much you love paper.”

Jim picked up the stack of letter, seeing the names of each of his kids, including Kevin. In the middle of the stack was a single hard copy photo of Jabari, a year younger, sitting on the stairs of the porch to his house with a rifle slung over his shoulder, eyes sharp and clear as ever, watching the photographer with suppressed amusement and annoyance.

“His parents didn’t have any pictures of him except for that one. They wanted you to have it.”

“Thank you.” Jim’s voice was rough with emotion, unsure what to say or do. “This means a lot.”

“Of course it does. We’re your kids.” Kevin grinned. “Sorry, if we let you think that we’ve forgotten that.”

Jim chuckled lightly. “Yeah, I thought maybe a little.”

Kevin turned off the holo device. “I’m glad you look okay. You seem a little happier despite this shitty mission. Something happen?”

“Is it that obvious?”

Kevin nodded.

Jim smiled shyly, scratching his cheek absentmindedly. “I started to see someone. For real this time.”

Clapping his hands together, Kevin moved to the edge of his seat excitedly, “That’s great news! Is she cute?”

Before Jim could answer, the door to the observation deck opened. “Captain,” Spock strode in, mindful of the cadet in the room. “The admiral is settled in with what you would call busy work.”

Titling his head, he gave Spock a warm smile. “Thanks Spock. I’ll be there shortly.”

Kevin looked between them. He waited until the Vulcan excused himself before pouncing. “He’s hot, for a Vulcan I guess.” He laughed at Jim’s blush. “Seriously though, I’m happy for you. You deserve be happy once in a while.”

“Once in a while?”

“Well he is Vulcan. I can only imagine the arguments you guys get into or “not” get into.”

Jim laughed as well. “I don’t know, I think Spock really enjoys “not” arguing with people. Drives my CMO crazy. As for us, we’re either arguing or on the same page. Either way it’s amusing. I think our arguments are more of a game now days though. I’ll choose the opposite choice sometimes just to rile him up.”

 “To each his own.” Kevin stood up stretching, cracking his back into place. “I should get to work. Let Komack take the brunt of the dirty work and get some sleep. If I know you, you’ve only slept a couple hours since getting back.”

“I’ll try. I have you bunking with Ensign Chekov. I didn’t realize I would be bunking two 19 year old geniuses together.”

“We’ll try not to blow something up. For the first month anyway. No guarantees after that.” The young man left, his laughter still audible even after the door closed behind him.

Making himself comfortable, Jim picked up the first letter of the stack and started reading.

* * *

It really wasn’t fair.

Jim awoke in his bed with Luca curled up against his side. Due to fatigue Luca had been sleeping most of his stay, or trying too. Often he would wake after a couple hours, seeking Jim’s presence until he fell asleep again, and Jim was reluctant to leave his side the past day and a half. Spock had been kind enough to take the brunt of the work, dealing with Komack and other menial tasks so Jim could spend time with him.

When Luca was awake, the young boy wanted to know everything about the ship, asking Jim endless questions from his daily routine to how fast the _Enterprise_ could go. He never wanted to leave Jim’s quarters however, and Jim never forced him. It would take time to heal his emotional scars, but there was no doubt in Jim’s mind that Luca would gain the courage to face them. He just needed a little time for the wounds to scab over a bit more before pushing himself further.

While Luca slept, Jim looked up everything he could about the foster family the child would stay with. The woman was just a little bit older than Jim, single, and had a job as a teacher without a single spot on her record minus a few minor traffic violations. She seemed well loved by the people she worked with and had adopted a young girl two years prior. There was no reason for him to dislike her, but he couldn’t help but dislike her for being the one who would take care of Luca in the end.

He still hadn’t told Luca that he would be leaving in an hour, and he really didn’t want to. Rolling over, he sat up to turn off his alarm before it could go off. Unfortunately, the movement seemed to rouse Luca from his sleep as well. “Morning already?” he yawned.

“You can go back to sleep if you want.”

The boy shook his head. Jim had cut the boy’s hair for him the day before. It wasn’t expertly done, but Luca had liked it, and the movement made the strands stick up on end. “Not tired,” he sat up rubbing the remains of sleep from his eyes. “Can we play today?”

He had to tell him. Jim picked up Luca, placing him in his lap. The boy was so small and thin. He was a year older than Kevin had been, just as resilient, yet Luca was different. Maybe because Jim had gotten attached to him, emotional invested himself with Luca more than he had with his kids back in the day, and Luca responded, depending on him more in return. “No, Lucian, we can’t play today.” At his full first name, Luca looked worried. “You’ll be going back to Earth to your new foster family.”

Panic spread across Luca’s features. “Did I do something wrong? Did I make you mad?”

“No,” he said gently. “Not at all.”

“Then why can’t I stay with you?”

“I can’t take care of you here. In a month, the _Enterprise_ will go back into deep space. There are lots of things out there that we don’t know about. It will be dangerous. I won’t have the time to take care of you, and if I have to worry about your safety, I might not make the right decisions. Plus, there are no kids your age here. Right now, you need a place where you are safe, and your parent can give you all the time you need.”

Luca was trying hard not to cry, steeling his expression so he would appear strong for Jim. “I understand.” But he still didn’t want to leave. Jim could see that, but it looked like Luca knew that eventually he would have to leave. He had just hoped, like Jim, that he could stay.

The next hour was spent in silence. Luca ate his fill of pancakes and bacon, and Jim watched, not feeling very hungry himself. He helped Luca comb his hair and get dressed and by the time they were to meet the representative in the shuttle bay, they were ready.

Luca was glued to Jim’s side, holding his hand in a death grip, keeping his eyes down to avoid looking at any male officers wondering about. Jim offered to have them ordered out, but Luca said he’d handle it. Even so, Jim asked half the crew to leave to make the moment more private for them and Spock and McCoy came to say their goodbyes as well. Luca wouldn’t look at McCoy, but he said his thanks, and he gave Spock a hug, saying he’d miss him.

The representative, a kind looking Andorian, greeted them. Bending down, she said gently to Luca, “It’s time to go now. Have you said your goodbyes?”

Luca nodded, burying his face in Jim’s sleeve. She took his hand to lead him away.

Just as she took the first few steps, Luca started to struggle against her. “No! I don’t want to! Don’t make me go! Jim! Jim!!” His small hand reached out to Jim, tears falling as he fought the Andorian.

Jim looked on, not saying anything, not moving towards him no matter how much it hurt to watch even as the Andorian picked the boy up to carry him away. “Jim!”

He watched until Luca disappeared from view and until the shuttle was sent off safely.  He didn’t realize his fists were shaking. He had barely stopped himself from going after him and finding a way to somehow make it work.

“What are you all looking at?! Don’t you have things to do?!” McCoy snapped at the crew members who had stopped to watch the scene unfold, chasing them away with threats of unknown hypos. Never before had Kirk been so relieved to have McCoy looking out for him.

“Are you alright?” Spock asked.

If Spock was asking about feelings, Jim knew he looked like crap, so he answered honestly, “No.”

“He will be okay, Jim.”

“Yeah,” Jim sighed, gazing at the shuttle hanger doors for a while longer, releasing the tension in his body. “I know he will be.”

* * *

_Jim had found Jabari’s PADD in his bag after the first week being home. The bastard must have slipped it in his bag, knowing he would die. He had promised to read his story, but was unable to bring himself to. He didn’t want to be reminded of the boy._

_He sat on his bed, three months after the Tarsus incident, fiddling with Maggie’s doll, playing with the yarn hair carefully. It really was an ugly doll and obviously handmade. He wondered if Maggie’s mom made it or some other relative._

_A knock on his bedroom door didn’t divert his attention from the doll. He bet Maggie would have been an artist when she grew up. She had loved to draw pictures for him, and she got creative, making things out of sticks and mud if she didn’t have a surface to draw on._

_The door opened, revealing Winona. “Jim,” she said softly, entering his room._

_“What?” he replied._

_“You have a letter.”_

_The odd sentence grabbed his attention as he saw the physical envelope in his mother’s hand. She handed it to him, and Jim stared at the unknown address. “You can go now,” he dismissed her._

_“Who’s it from,” she asked._

_Jim looked up with a glare. “Shouldn’t you be looking for your other son?”_

_Hurt flashed across Winona’s face. Normally, talking about Sam got her to leave, but her curiosity must have won over the guilt. “You can’t use that against me forever.”_

_The hell he couldn’t, he thought, but even he was curious. He opened the letter._

_The words were hardly legible, trademark of a child’s handwriting with large bulky letters written on wide ruled paper. Still, Jim recognized the handwriting right away._

_Dear Jim,_

_I remembered that you like paper, so I managed to get some to rite you a letter. I moved in with my uncle in Ireland. He’s a lot nicer than your uncle. I wake up at night a lot. He doesn’t understand much, but he tries to help. He makes me good pancakes when I do to make me feel better._

_I miss you. It is hard to get used to going to school and making frends is hard. And I keep thinking about the others. I reelized that you probly miss everyone too. But I wanted to let you know so you don’t worry about me. I am OK._

_From,_

_Kevin_

_Jim read the last line again and again, not realizing he was crying, until his tears smeared the ink on the paper.  The letter had soothed the worry in Jim’s mind. He hadn’t realized how frightened he was, wondering if they were okay, if they were adjusting, and if they were happy._

_“Is it something bad?” his mother asked, both worried about the letters contents, but happy that Jim showed some sort of emotion._

_“Get out. It’s nothing.”_

_With control that would make a Vulcan proud, he stopped his tears and acted as if nothing was wrong, turning to his computer. He waited until she had left before carefully closing the letter and placing it next to Jamie on his desk. He ordered some paper online so he could send Kevin a reply and a stationary set to send to the boy since paper was kind of expensive for an seven year old child, and drafted his response on the computer._

_Calm washed over Jim for the first time since the outbreak started six months ago. A letter from a small boy who had fought beside him, who he had cared for, was what he needed. He had needed proof that he had done something right, that all the heartache and nightmares was worth it. That he wasn’t just a horrible person._

_Saving the draft, he leaned back in his computer chair, glancing at Jabari’s PADD. He had promised to read it. He wondered if_ he _had finished it. With shaking hands, he connected the device to his computer to download the document since the screen was broken beyond repair. Within five minutes, the document was up on the monitor, and Jim began reading._

Dedicated to Jim, the man who will one day own the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment please.


	21. Life Goes On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ATTENTION!
> 
> I updated twice today. If you went straight to this chapter, go back one

McCoy grumbled as he made his way through the overly crowded San Francisco streets. He wanted to go to the bar, but no, it was a nice day so everyone else wanted to get together before shore leave ended the next day by having a picnic. He was happy to spend time with his daughter for majority of the leave, and the thought of being shoved back into that tin can they called a starship was not appealing. Why did he sign up for this again?

His comm beeped for the thousandth time during shore leave. Flipping it open he answered the question before he could even be asked, “No, I don’t know where he is. I am not his babysitter. Stop calling me,” and hung up.

“Wow, should I even ask?” Uhura asked. She was wearing a yellow sundress that showed off her legs and arms nicely, gaining the attention of everyone else who decided to go to the park that day. Scotty also looked up with mild curiosity from the picnic table, in the middle of downing a glass of home made scotch.

“Jim’s psychologist keeps calling. Apparently, Jim deemed himself too important to actually go to more than one session. For some reason, that meant harassing me with phone calls, asking me about where he is all month. I know they say it isn’t mandatory, but you know when they tell you to go and assign you one, they want you to actually go.”

“Do you know where they are?” Hikaru asked, grabbing a hot dog from the pile of food spread out.

“After leaving the embassy, they supposedly went around the world doing stuff. All I know for sure was that Jim went rock climbing in Yellowstone two weeks ago and Spock sent a photo to me of them in Tokyo from the Up and Coming Technology convention. Jim kept talking about some game called _ShiKahr_ in his messages for two days after that.”

“Are they back yet?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. I don’t even want to hear their names until I have to report in tomorrow. I swear they managed to ruin a perfectly good leave without even being here,” the doctor continued to grumble.

“I think it’s sweet,” Uhura chimed in, sitting next to Scotty and stealing one of his fries.  “Maybe they’ll actually stop arguing on the bridge after this.”

The doctor snorted. “Not likely. They both get off on it.”

Sulu choked on his drink at the comment.

“All right. ‘Nough talking about the keptin. The wolleyball court is set up,” Chekov announced, carry the volleyball under his arm. “You know, wolleyball was invented in Moscow in the 17th century.”

Everyone proceeded to roll their eyes. Earning a confused, “Vhat” from the young Russian.

* * *

Jim leaned back at his computer, smiling at the document he had just finished typing up.

“Is it done?”

The sound of Spock’s voice made Jim smile brighter and swirled around in his chair to get a better look at his lover. Spock was sitting in the arm chair inside the office; body curled around his lyre as he slowly plucked at the string and adjusted the tuning knob.  He was looking at Jim with curiosity and genuine interest.

“Yeah. Just wrote the last bit. All it needs left is to be edited.”

“I will do it before the night is over,” Spock replied, returning focus to his lyre, plucking away clumsily. The sight was cute. It had been a while since Jim had seen Spock so focused on a task. Not since they left the ship.

His computer pinged, alerting him to a message. Turning back to the device, he opened the message. His expression softened.

“Did Luca send a reply?” Spock asked, placing the instrument down gently to walk over to read the letter for himself.

“Yeah. He says he’s still having nightmares, but they’re getting better. He also says his sister is a pain and his foster mom isn’t _too_ bad, but he’d rather be with us. He asked if we can take him to Disney World the next time we visit Earth. He says that he’s slowly getting over the panic attacks and by the time we get back, he promises he’ll be able to do it. He also wants to thank us for giving him a tour of the academy and taking him out for ice cream.” Jim grinned. “He claims he wants to be like me when he grows up.”

“Obviously, the child is not aware of how bad of an influence you are.”

“Talking about personal experience, Spock?” Jim extended his two fingers.

“Undoubtedly.” Spock gave him a soft smile and returned the Vulcan kiss as well as bending down to give Jim a chaste human one.

Jim took a quick look around at their temporary housing. It was a small apartment, one bedroom with an office, kitchen, and living space. Despite having traveled around the world most of their stay, it looked lived in, Spock’s things mixing with his. Spock’s order and Jim’s chaos. They could have stayed at the embassy with a much bigger living space, but they both liked being secluded while they both took time to heal. Tomorrow, they would be back on the ship, running things as usual, but returning stronger and more themselves then they had ever been before.

The door bell rang, and Jim took a deep breath, getting up from his chair to answer it. Spock followed behind, keeping a respectable distance to give Jim space for what he was about to do.

Opening the door, relief and calm flooded through Jim. Seeing the woman in front of him, watching her nervous shifts and uncertain blue eyes at the sight of him, Jim knew for the first time since Tarsus IV that it was possible. He would heal. He would be okay.

“Hi, mom.”

* * *

_Living is more difficult than dying. Very few truly understand the gravity that statement holds. Some people will stop at nothing to ensure their survival. Others would rather die than hurt someone they care about. Society teaches us that no life is worth more than another’s, and while we will agree when asked, rarely does it hold when society is no longer there to watch us. If you must choose between starving or stealing food from someone to survive, most would steal. But what if you knew that stealing would make that person starve to death? You admit then that your life is more important, robbing another person of their chance. The same holds true if you were to kill another, whether in self defense or with a preplanned murder. You believe that you deserve to live while the other dies. It then becomes a much more difficult decision. What do you value more? The piece of bread that may or may not save your life? Or your moral integrity?_

_Instead, I rather focus on what my life shows about me as a person. I am not a saint. I want to survive just like everyone else, and if it came down to it, I’d kill someone for that piece of bread. There is no compensating for the life I took in the process, but I won’t let it define me either. What I choose to do with the life I kept close and dear is what's important. I live to protect those who need me, for those who love me. And while I may not believe I am worthy to walk beside them, I would fight until my last breath to ensure that they do survive. This is the role I choose to give my life and will follow through on._

_Some will choose to starve; giving up their life so another can live. Even then, choosing how to die can define your life as well. To soothe the heart of those you leave behind with a letter, to give your already short life by saving the person you love. To leave a mark on each person you touched and give them hope even after your passing. In this way, you can still be worth something, maybe more than you ever could have in life._

_For those who have to choose neither, those who have the luxury to complain about the day to day, who worry whether or not their significant other is cheating or if you can pay the bills, I have a word of advice for you, embrace what you do have. Life is short. So disgustingly short. You never know when you might die or even if you’ll have a choice whether to fight for your survival or not. You could die in a hovercar accident or even an allergic reaction without a moment’s notice. Those bridges you burned, those times you say you’ll get to it later, it’s not worth it. Embrace the people who love you whether they are friends, lovers, or family members. Even when you feel that no one cares, I can almost guarantee that someone does, you just have to look. Leave a mark of who you are on them and on the people around you, so if you do have to choose one day, you can choose without regrets._

_Living is hard. You may find darkness in life, in people, but look for things worth living for. If you’re a slave, hope for freedom. If you have everything, give love and hope in return to those who do not have it. Living is hard, but death is forever._

_Live life. Love life. And live a life worth living._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the end. Yup. All done. No more. I am both thinking, thank god, and aww, at the same time. I now have time for the other Star Trek story that hasn't been updated in months. Still thinking of doing a Mirrorverse fic, but perhaps I should wait a while. My Naruto fic will be updated whenever cause no one reads it but me. My only story with a complicated plot and no one reads. The irony.
> 
> Well, comment. And thanks for those who stuck it out until the end.
> 
> ALSO IN CASE YOU DIDN'T READ THE NOTE BEFORE: I updated twice today. If you only read one chapter, you missed the previous one.


	22. SPECIAL: Drowning whispers Ch. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, guys! Long time, no see! So as you can see, this is a special. Drowning whispers, chapter 1. I was thinking of putting it up on amazon if I finish it since Jabari's story doesn't use Star Trek names and all the events on tarsus is everything I created. I'll only sell it for a buck or two so tell me what you think. I have to get through school somehow.

 

I killed my grandfather. His back was turned to me, his shoulder's hunched over as he gripped his cane. The morning sun, coming over the ridge silhouetting his form. The spring flowers, speckled with white surrounded him as the sun warmed our skin. There was no blood. The heat from the plasma that burned his skin, cauterized the wound so only the hole remained.

His body fell, the white dust flying into the air from the impact. From that moment on, I was no longer Daryl Henderson. I was too stained to call myself that.

I am a murder. It is the cold bitter truth that I had accepted the moment I pulled the trigger. Everything written in these pages is also truth. It is the story I choose to leave behind. A story I leave for him, to one day read.

If you are looking for a heartwarming story about human triumph, about love conquering all, about humanity being a guiding light, I'm afraid you will not find it here. I am here to tell you of the crimes I have committed, the darkness that lies within every living thing. It is about the things you would do, the people you would kill, to survive.

Forgive me, I am getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning.

The first time I met John Peterson, he laughed as he shot an arrow at my head …

March 31, 2247

I evened my breathing, synching it with the steady beat of my heart. Leaning into the stock, I took my aim, keeping both eyes open. I pulled the trigger. Slowly, I released the breath that I unconsciously held when the rifle discharged, having braced my body for the recoil; my shot had made its mark.

"That was near perfect. I don't think I've ever seen a finer job."

Sitting up, I brushed the dirt and leaves that clung to my once white tank top then shouldered the gun to examine the man before me.

My grandfather was a tall man, even as he began to hunch over from age. Once nearing 188cm, he still held his back straight, his shoulders square, and kept his head held high, but his features had softened with time. He smiled at me proudly even as he tapped my knee with his cane. "I don't think there's anymore that I can teach you."

"You tracked me," I stated, finally standing up to get my kill. I couldn't resist the slight tug on my lips that showed my annoyance. I knew that I had covered every track, made no noise. All that careful preparation…

The cane tapped the top of my head, just hard enough to sting. "I know I taught you better," he scolded, his voice disapproving. "Pouting at your age," he scoffed. "You better stop that right now boy, else I'll give you something to pout about. Grown and still can't act right."

"Sorry, Grandfather. I am just…frustrated." I located my kill, faintly hidden in the tall seaweed green grass, under the shade of the canopy above us. The kerompf, a large lizard like predator, roughly the length of Earth's alligators, but with six legs, land based, and as fast as a cheetah, lay unmoving, the remaining light fading from its eyes as it drew its final breaths. I drew my hunting knife from its sheath, ready to cut into its flesh and strip away the edible pieces of meat fit for humans, leaving the rest for the scavengers.

"Leave it." My grandfather snapped. The sudden change of tone had me turning my attention to him. There was a strange look in his eyes. He looked wary as he regarded the animal. I had never seen such an expression from him. "Dinner is ready. We should hurry before it gets cold.

I blinked slowly then stood, leaving the animal where it laid, following behind my elder as he led the way. "How were they?"

"Horrendous. Just because I'm old don't mean I don't know what I'm talking about. I can out shoot those plebs on my worst day."

We walked in silence, trekking the forest without a single sound. As we neared our assigned housing, I stopped just as the front door whooshed open. "I could be of assistance."

He stopped, turning in the doorway with a gentle stare. "You should worry about studying, not worrying about an old man like me." Lifting his hand, he waved me over. Two steps and I was within arm's reach. With a strong finger, he poked the center of my chest. "Don't worry about me, you hear? You got that big brain of yours. I can handle a bunch of rowdy kids. I do every year. You just focus on those textbooks. The doc is picking only one resident this year, and I don't want those books I paid for going to waste."

I nodded.

With such simple gesture, my grandfather grinned. "Alright. Let me get my medication. Can you set the table?"

The military never left the man. Every morning my grandfather would get up at ungodly hours. Which often meant I was up at the same time to assist him. As such, dinner was early as well, usually eaten at 5pm, so my grandfather could be in bed early to compensate for his early days.

After dinner and after fixing the next dosage of medication for when he woke, I picked up my rifle and duffle bag. The sun was still high in the sky despite it nearing 7pm. Thirty hour days was hard to get used to even after being on planet for a month. The air was still crisp from the early spring chill. Even with the cool temperature, I only bothered to put on a light jacket.

The planet was called Theta Sigma VI. To the colonists, we call it Restin. The colony was only 20 years old, the first group of scientist already replaced by their children. The air was breathable, and though the climate was similar to Earth's, the planet never really went dormant during the winter. New scientists come occasionally, just as some scientists leave. It was Earth's 47th colony, mostly used only for scientific research. That's what most of the colonies are, scientific outposts. There was really no need to truly settle on an uninhabited planet with the countless advanced alien species encountered in the late 22nd century offered their own territory with offers of trade. With an intergalactic alliance made up of the more friendly species, humans could settle on their planets and space outposts without worrying of the extensive costs that it took to sustain a colony isolated from civilization. Unless it had mining opportunities or scientific purposes, it was left alone with a small settlement to observe it. This was one of the larger scientific colonies with 24,000 residents.

Restin had a unique ecosystem, rich in possible medical advances, from the strong and nearly invincible immune system of the local bird, the ravenburrow, to the chemical composition of the red brown leaves of the trees. A perfect place for those looking to go into medical research. Perfect place for a person like myself. It was only an added incentive that I, who preferred solitude, found a place where I could indulge in that solitude while perusing my goals.

Sitting down under the shade of the trees, on the hill overlooking the east science facilities, I dismantled the rifle, placing the power pack on a sheet I had spread out. The cartridge was nearly empty, the gas pressure so low that the shot would only fizzle if I pulled the trigger again. The magnetic field generator was badly worn from the plasma heat and the barrel was starting to warp and needed repair.

The rifle was of sleek design, belying the many components needed to make such a weapon work and many of the pieces were in bad shape. I frowned at my carelessness. Plasma rifles needed constant maintenance. The heat from the plasma easily warps the barrel with continuous use, one of the reasons why the plasma pistol is still the more favored weapon of choice of the military. The plasma only having to travel 5 cm down the barrel, the pistol lasts longer and was easy to maintain. Though weaker, they get the job done. The longer distance of the rifle and the higher damage is rarely needed in today's society. War isn't really a thing. Not since the first contact wars a century ago, just humanitarian efforts and defense, kind of like the United Nations peacekeeping soldiers all those years ago.

Still, I berated myself in silence as I polished and repaired my rifle. Opening the bag, I pulled out replacement parts and cleaning supplies, carefully putting it back together piece by piece. I should not have allowed my stress to be taken out on my gun. A disordered mind was always reflected somewhere, no matter how well you try to hide it.

I had just slid the new power pack into place when I saw something in the corner of my eye. My instincts told me to move before I even registered what it was, leaning back without an ounce of control and almost falling over. Something whizzed by, just nicking the bridge of my nose, followed by the sting of the cut.

Turning my head, I saw the object imbedded into the dirt at an angle, followed by laughter.

"Oh shit, are you okay." There was a hint of laughter in the voice, and I was not surprised to who it belonged to.

Turning to face the offender who had nearly killed me with a bow and arrow, I sized up John Peterson. He was slightly shorter than me, had wheat blond hair, vibrant blue eyes, and a handsome face. He also had lean muscle mass, that he showed up with a black, sleeveless, muscle shirt with the top of the standard colony jumpsuit tied around his waist.

"Sorry about that. Someone decided it was a brilliant idea to practice archery." His apology didn't seem sincere. The laughter never quite left his voice, and his eyes were filled with amusement.

"The practice is well needed," I replied, packing my duffle bag. I should have noticed them even if they were down the hill and out of sight. They were loud enough.

"Never said I was good at it," he chuckled. "Want to join us?"'

"I'm busy." I shouldered my bag and carried my riffle by its strap in the left, not bothering to say goodbye to him or tell him where his arrow landed.

I had never formally met John until that day, but everyone knew of him. A bit of a trouble maker, he was frowned upon by many of the authority figures in town. But no matter how much trouble he found himself in, people flocked to him and genuinely liked him. No matter his temper or fights he would get in. It was probably his face. He was classically handsome and girls followed him around like love sick puppies. Of course, he flirted back making them come back for more. The guys liked him for his easy-going personality, calling him a fun and cool person to hang out with.

I hated people like him. Airheaded people who rode through life with their face alone, too stupid to realize that their friends were only with them to see them act the fool or for their looks. What good were people like him for?

As I came down the hill, John's friends came into view, all circled around the targets with their backs turned towards me.

"You think he's talking with that guy?" one of them asked.

"Hope not. He's creepy. Wouldn't be surprised if he turned out to be a psychopath."

"Don't be an idiot. Just because he hunts…" the only one even remotely trying to defend me trailed off, disturbed by the word she had just said.

There was no hesitance in my gait, already used to their slander, and they didn't notice me until I walked past them, every single one of them jumping out of their skin as I did.

"Like a damn ghost," one muttered before I reached out of earshot.

Hunting was frowned upon. Normally, there was no need for it survival wise with domesticated animals and farms. Until the nuclear wars, it was common to hunt for sport. It wasn't until afterwards, when animals were scarce and the planet on the verge of dying, that it became illegal. Eventually, the ban was lifted 120 years later but ethically, it was still considered wrong. But their comments didn't bother me nor did their narrowmindedness.

I didn't give them another thought. My attention drifted to the research I had read over earlier that day, recalling the common ailments the colonist often encountered on Restin, the symptoms, and the treatments. Knowing Dr. Kim, there would be an essay and case study on them during the test.

As I neared my home, I slowly came to a halt. My grandfather, normally asleep at this time, was standing outside the door, speaking to two men I had never seen before. I was considering whether I should postpone my return when they both suddenly looked turned their sights on me. I couldn't make out their face. The high collared coats and wide brim hats cast shadows over their features with the setting sun behind them. But I remember their eyes. A set of grey and green eyes stared into me. There was something unnerving about their gaze. Their bright, nearly glowing eyes made the hair on the back of my neck rise and my muscles tense. My grandfather said something that regained both of their attentions. With mumbled words, they bowed their heads and left.

"You aren't in bed?" I had asked my grandfather.

My grandfather looked at me, a bit dazed, then shook his head as if regaining his senses. "They were just informing me about the biannual supply drop. Nothing to worry about."

I put him to bed again, but I could not get rid of the unease that day. I never saw those men again, nor did I hear anything else about them, but I was sure, even to this day, that they were somehow behind the events that occurred during the following months. In hindsight, I suppose it didn't matter. Whatever their goal was or could have been, they had definitely succeeded. For this day, this memory, was one of the last normal days I would have. For everything after that, slowly turned into a living nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think. I've never done first person like this so I need feedback.


End file.
